


Whale songs and Steam Dreams

by MrsRidcully



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: A little bit of Smut not to much not to little, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Brad is an overprotective bf, Canon Hahah Its been taken out the back and shot, Chimeras, Fantasy AU, Flying, Hurt / Comfort, If your looking for a Canon GK fic this is not the one your looking for, Magic, Multi, Some period typical violence, Wings, random misuse of Tropes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-02-03 08:19:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12744552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsRidcully/pseuds/MrsRidcully
Summary: The Emperor is dead, murdered by an assassin's blade. Royal Guardian Wynn has been accused of this most heinous crime, his life now forfeit and condemned to death.Crown Prince Nathaniel Fick is the reluctant successor to the Crown of Tears, while Arch-Chamberlain Schwetje works to ensure his own power, manipulating and killing all who stand in his way.In a world of steam-powered machines and dark magic, The Brotherhood of Braavos--a band of thieves, magic users, and misfits--work together to free their former commander and protect the young Prince.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Steampunk and Fantasy are my big loves when it comes to reading and I thought why not try my hand at it and then throw our Gen Kill boys into the mix. More is planned for later but this is to test the waters a huge thank you to #CelticPixie for being a patient Beta and wonderful sounding Board,
> 
> A glossary and Picture Boards are up on my Tumbler page for this fic .

“Make sure his chains are tight, you know what happened last time,” hissed one of the guards, their voices muffled by the iron and oak cell door.

 

“Did he really take out eight Imperial Guardsman?” another voice questioned. 

 

“Don’t worry, the royal alchemists have been feeding him milk of the black poppy. He could not hurt a fly,” a third voice chimed in.

 

The door slammed open and the three guards approached the chained prisoner. 

 

One of the guards grabbed the prisoner by his shaggy red hair. “You're going to fly today, Wynn. Meet the Guardians of the Seven Hells for what you did.”

 

The prisoner Wynn just gave each of the men a cold look, amber eyes blinking slowly. The effects of the black poppy made him sluggish and malleable.

 

“On your feet.” 

 

Wynn let out a feeble groan as he was hauled to his feet, a metal collar roughly placed around his neck. He was too tired to fight the rough treatment--to broken to care. 

 

The Emperor lay dead at the foot of his throne and he was responsible. He may not have plunged in the blade himself, but he was not able to stop it from happening.

 

He felt himself being hauled out into the dimly lit hallway, the cold stone floor scraping at his bare feet. He was roughly herded along narrow halls and winding stone steps, the occasional narrow window giving him a brief glimpse of the world outside.

 

It seemed like hours had passed since they had taken him from his cell, but he wondered if that was just the poppy milk they had been force feeding him. The drug had done its job in dulling his reactions and slowing his mind but it did little to dull the pain of the daily beatings and torture. Arch-Chamberlain Schwetje watched silently while the torturers did there work and never once was Wynn questioned.

 

They entered a small anti-chamber, gas lights flitting fitfully overhead, where a group of richly garbed men stood close to the large glass-paneled balcony door, Schwetje in his scarlet robe of office looking pompous and foolish, but Wynn paid him no heed. He was more concerned with the figure standing behind the Arch-Chamberlain. Crown Prince Nate looked haggard and drawn, his normally bright green eyes dulled by unshed tears.

 

Wynn dropped his head in shame. His only regret in life would be that he could no longer protect and guard the young ruler.

 

“This is wrong, Lord Chancellor, there has been no trial, no proof of guilt, only the words of your men against Wynn.” Nate's voice carried a hint of steal, the promise of the strength that hid within. 

 

“Hush boy, this is of no concern to you, it is a matter of justice. A matter for the chancellery to decide,” hissed Schwetje. 

 

The young Prince held the chancellor's look but realized it was futile to speak. With the Emperor dead the power that should have gone to the Prince now firmly rested in Schwetje’s hands.

 

“Wynn, you have been found guilty by your betters of high treason. For this crime you shall be shown no mercy and thrown from the Tower as is decreed by law. May the Seven Makers have pity on your soul,” intoned Vice Chancellor Griego. Never far from Schwetje, that oily toad, thought Wynn.

 

Wynn was pushed roughly through the open doors and lead to the edge of the tower. Looking down, he saw the clouds speeding past as the floating city, the jewel of the imperial crown, made its way across the heavens and he imagined he could hear the far off sounds of the sky behemoths. 

 

He turned to look at the gathered officials. Catching the Prince's eye he smiled a crooked grin, regretting that the milk of poppy and the torture had robbed him of his voice, only wishing to offer the man words of comfort and wisdom to help arm him against the dark days to come.  

 

The guards removed the chains binding him and positioned him at the edge of the precipice, the Arch-Chamberlain ready to give another of his pompous speeches. 

 

Damn him to the Sisters of Dusk, he would not let the last sound he heard on this plane be of that officious toad's voice.

 

Standing straight with shoulders firm, he looked towards the onlookers and, bowing towards the Prince with a formality he had seldom used, Wynn stepped backwards off the ledge, praying to the Sisters of Dusk and Dawn to protect those whom he no longer could. 

 

0o0o0o

  
  


“Ray, I swear to the Sisters if you don’t get this flying barge of bolts closer,” Brad yelled as the winds whipped at his face and shirt. Perched on the bow of the flying barge he looked upwards to the city, the clouds making it hard to see.

 

“Brad, I am going as fast as I dare. These turbines have seen better days and the sails are holding on with only a hope and a prayer,” Ray yelled from where he wrestled with the sky barges wheel.

 

They had gotten word from their palace insider that the Chamberlain had planned on executing Wynn today. The news had sent Brad into a near panic. Well, the closest that Ray had ever seen the Iceman to panicking.

 

They had commandeered the Octavia, an old hunk of junk, and set off chasing the Imperial City. They had played a game of hide and seek with the swarms of Imperial Flyers who patrolled the city, keeping the building storm clouds between them and the city.

 

The Horn of Damocles blew, heralding the execution of a condemned man. Ray could see through the cloud scutter and mist Brad’s face go rigid, and turning he sprinted towards Ray and the wheelhouse. 

 

“My harness, Ray. Where is it?” His calm voice belied the terror the man must have felt.

 

“Under the bench where you put it, but you can’t seriously think you can fly in this weather, your wings won’t take it or, for that matter, will they support you and Wynn's weight? The odds are against you succeeding, you're not going to make it before the second horn blows.” Ray's voice got more frantic and animated as he went. 

 

“Ray. don’t tell me the odds. Are you going to help me harness up or waste what little time we have telling me how I am going to crash and burn?” Brad's voice would have sounded a notch calmer to those who did not know him but Ray could hear the edge of panic. 

 

“Rudy, take the wheel. Keep us on this heading and watch those thunderheads, one good blast of lightning and we lose the turbines!” Ray yelled at the other man in the wheelhouse. 

 

Ray set about helping Brad get into his flying harness, guiding him to the edge of the barge and holding his wings up from the swaying deck. Ray could hear Brad murmuring a prayer.  

 

“Daedalus, father of the fallen, grant me true flight and strength. Daedalus, father of the fallen, help me find one of our own.”

 

Ray shuddered as he watched the magic of the harness and man combine, steel and brass becoming flesh and feather, gears and cogs becoming sinew and bone.

 

“Fucking Gryphon Bloods, you're all insane. You and Wynn both,” Ray yelled over the turbulent air. 

 

Brad gave a cocky salute and leapt out into the stormy sky, golden wings beating a thunderous tempo as he ascended into the sky. 

  
  


O0o0o0

  
  


Brad's wings fought to keep him skybound, flying in an ever-increasing spiral, the heavy cumulonimbus clouds growing increasingly darker. The storm's winds tore at Brad's wings, making each downward thrust a battle. Lightning arced up ahead, its neon light casting ghostly shapes across the clouds.

 

Only a madman would risk flying in these conditions or someone who had supreme faith in his ability to conquer the storm, and Brad was of the belief that he possessed that ability. He was once a Sergeant of the Gryphon Brotherhood, the fallen Emperors finest troops sworn to protect the Empire and the Emperor with their life. 

 

Brad rode the storm's updrafts, seeking to get higher faster, riding each updraft until the cloud top was in sight.

 

Nearing the top of the storm, Brad slowed his speed, fighting against the winds to remain in position as he gazed to the floating city above. Brad could see the flying patrols of the Royal Guard circling beneath the city, ensuring no one tried to rescue Wynn from his fate. 

 

But they did not count on the madness of Wynn's former comrades or their willingness to risk the mother of all storms to snatch their former commander from death. 

 

The guards would not think to look below the storm, reasoning no sane person would navigate in those conditions. Luckily, Brad laughed to himself, he and his brothers were not sane or rational when it came to looking after one of their own.

 

Magic enhanced eyesight helped Brad pick out the tumbling figure falling from the Tower of Damocles before the second sounding of the horn. “Damn it, Mike, you just had to leap of your own volition,” Brad cursed into the storm.

 

Thrusting his wings down, Brad sped up to match the trajectory of his falling comrade. Fighting the turbulent air, Brad pushed his wings to the limit, feeling the strain and pull in his shoulders but not letting up. 

 

Brad's eyes never left the falling figure, the closer he got the clearer he could see Mike, his face a mask of serenity, arms outstretched as if welcoming the fall. To Brad's eyes he looked beautiful. 

 

“A beautiful fucking idiot,” Brad growled to himself. “Could not wait for the second horn, I am going to have words with my mate if we survive this.” 

 

Bonded pairs of either sex were not uncommon in the Skylands military, it was seen as preferential to have a stable pair lead a company, but Brad and Mike had another bonus. They were soul bonded, a rarity even for the Skylands. Two souls entwined so tightly even Tim the company alchemist and magister could not see in the Epithelium where one began and the other ended.

 

Brad reached the point where their two paths would intersect with only moments to spare. He spread his wings out to their full magnificent length, praying it would be enough to act as a break to Mike's freefall.

 

Their bodies crashed together like two titans fighting, Brad battling to hold onto the other man as the momentum of the impact drove them crashing down through the stormy skies.

Brad fought to hold on to Mike, his wings grabbing and slipping in the air, finally slowing enough that he could adjust the hold he had on the man. 

 

Now with Mike in his arms, he could feel the ebb and flow of the other man's life force. The months in prison had taken its toll. Holding his mate close to his chest he flew down to where he hoped the Octavia was waiting, dodging lighting and violent gusts, hoping for a break in the clouds to catch a glimpse of the waiting sky barge.

  
  


0o0o0o0o0

  
  


“By Hera’s sagging tits, will you hold this ship on course Ray!” Pappy yelled from the foredeck, harpoon net held at the ready, waiting for sight of their comrades, his enhanced eyes scanning the clouds. 

 

If anyone could snatch a falling birdman and his precious cargo tumbling out of the sky it would be Pappy, his skill with bow and gun a legend. Only the Iceman could come close to the acuity of vision Pappy had.

 

“Damn it, I am trying but these piece of shit goggles keep fading on me, the crystal keeps wigging out and all I see is green man,” Ray snarked as he fiddled with the small trapezoidal crystal that sat between the lenses of his goggles.

 

“Well next time don’t send Trombley to the lower markets, go yourself, brother. You know he has no idea what the difference is between a good or bad crystal,” Rudy piped in.

 

Before Ray could retort Pappy yelled, “I see ‘em, coming in hot! Get her about, Ray, gonna to have to net them!” 

 

Ray fought with the wheel, the sky keel groaning under the strain of the sudden turn, sails billowing out then stilling. It was a precarious move. If the turbines chose this moment to cut out they would plunge to the toxic world below, smashing into cloud reefs and who knows what else.

 

Pappy lurched with the sudden stilling of the deck. Righting himself he breathed deeply, centering his focus and finding the inner calm just like Rudy had taught him.

 

‘Artemis guide my arm,’ Pappy fervently prayed as he locked onto the tumbling figures above him. 

 

Lifting the harpoon net, he sighted his target in. Waiting till the very last second, he released a slow breath and pulled the harpoons trigger, the hiss of the steam canister barely audible above the howling wind and the net speeding towards the flying men.

 

As the strong hemp rope coiled at his feet begun to spool out, Pappy dropped the harpoon gun and grabbed hold of the rope as the net it was attached to snared the falling men. “Jacks! On me! Grab hold of the rope and don't you dare let go!” Pappy yelled above the sound of howling wind and groaning timber.

 

Soon Pappy and Jacks were joined by Rudy, his strength helping them finally haul the men aboard.

 

Brad looked exhausted, his wings tattered and feathers missing in various places but other than that he looked whole. Wynn, on the other hand, did not look good. Even Pappy who lacked the healing sense of a gnat could see that Mike was not long for this world if Doc did not work his magic soon.

 

Brad stood, his legs shaking but still able to hold himself upright as Rudy fussed and fiddled, finally removing Brad’s wing harness. Bending down, Brad scooped the other man into his arms. “We need to get Mike below deck. Now. Get Tim.”

 

Pappy marveled at the Wingman's strength. Though Mike was a good 4 inches shorter than Brad he was made of hard muscle and even in his emaciated state he was still no lightweight to carry, but then Pappy reasoned to himself if it were he and Rudy in the same position he would carry his mate for all eternity if he had too.

 

Rudy looked over at Pappy as if sensing the other man's thoughts, giving a soft smile before helping Brad get Mike below deck.

  
  


Brad stalked the small cabin, throwing icy glances at the alchemist  as he worked on Mike. 

“Can't you just, you know-” Brad moved his fingers in way signifying using magic.

 

Tim sighed, moving around the bed and checking Mike's vitals before reaching for his bag. 

 

“No, Brad, magic cannot fix everything, they have been force feeding him poppy milk for months. It’s suppressed his breathing and slowed his heartrate, now shut up and let me do my work or leave the room. Your choice.” Tims steely blue gaze and upturned chin made Brad shush.

 

“Walt, hand me the pouch with the digitalis and canis root,” Tim motioned to the young assassin.

 

“You want the pestle and mortar too, Doc?“ Walt questioned while he handed over the herbs.

 

“No, should be ground up already. Fill a mug with hot water and let these steep for a while.” Doc handed Walt back a small hessian pouch containing the measured out herbs.

 

Brad stood watching while the two men worked in sync to care for Mike. He mussed on the fact that one of the men in the room was probably the company's most proficient and deadly killer. With his angelic features and sweet countenance few would see Walt as a threat, let alone someone to be feared, yet it was true. Walt was a son of the Sisters of Night, a trained assassin since childhood, but for whatever reason all the men of the Brotherhood looked at him as their kid brother and treated him with unguarded affection.

 

Brad was roused from his musing by Doc calling his name. “Brad, I need your help. Want you to sit Mike up so we can get him to drink some of this,” he indicated the steaming mug in his hand, “I don’t want him choking on it.” Doc ordered.

 

Brad climbed onto the small bed, manoeuvring Mike so he lay propped up in his arms while Doc fed the decoction to the semi-conscious man. “Now we do the magic stuff,” Doc smirked wiggling his fingers.

 

Brad watched uneasily as Doc placed a hand flat to Mike’s chest, the serpent tattoo on his arm that marked him as a healer glowing briefly. Doc’s eyes shone with an emerald light then subdued back to their normal blue. 

 

“What did you do?” Brad asked, feeling Mike's heartbeat strengthen through their bond.

 

Doc gave Brad a wan smile. “The herbs will help strengthen his heart and I just gave him a little extra energy to help heal, it’s not much but it should help.” 

 

Brad gave Doc a thankful smile, arms still full of a sleeping Mike. Laying the other man down, he stroked the bruised and battered face fondly before turning to the other men.

 

“We need to decide what we do next. Gather the men into the galley, Walt,” Brad spoke.

 

Sitting in the corner of the cramped galley, Ray scowled as he rolled a cigarette.

 

“We're gonna do something about this mess, right? We're not going to let those fuckers win.” Ray voiced the feelings of all the men in the room--he had hit at the heart of it. One of their own had been tortured, thrown in a dank cell, and nearly executed.

 

Brad leaned down over the scratched and dented galley table, sweeping his gaze around the room. “First we need to get Mike back to Hellespont. Schwetje and his cronies think Mike's  dead so we have that in our favour. We need to regroup and prepare.” Brad looked over at Ray, giving his best friend a nod. “I agree with Person. We are not going to let these fuckers get away with this, but there is more at stake than we can see.”

 

The ship rocked and lurched, the storm thundered and roared as if emphasising Brads fears.

 

From the doorway behind Brad, a voice spoke, gravely and tired. Mike clung to the door frame, his face looking drawn and haggard but fire sparked in his amber eyes.

 

“This is not about revenge, this is about saving the Prince. This is about saving our world,” Mike rasped.

 

Brad slipped his arm around his mate's waist leading him to a chair while glaring at Doc for allowing him to get out of bed. Doc arched an eyebrow, indicating that if Mike wanted out there was not a damn thing he could have done to stop him.

 

“Our world is going to do just fine without us helping Mike. As for the Prince, I am not sure what we can do but we will think of something,” reasoned Brad, trying to sooth his mate.

 

Mike shook his head, his hand gripping the table. “No Brad, you don't understand. Schwetje and his ilk are consolidating power, they are going to use Nate as a figurehead while they work and scheme behind the scenes. And it gets worse.”

 

“Worse how, Mike?” Concern was etched on Brad's face.

 

“How do you think they got to the Emperor? I’m not bragging when I say in all my years of service to the man no one had ever gotten close to harming him, even…,” Mike levelled a fond look over at Walt, “When one of your Brotherhood tried.”  

 

Doc sat down across from Mike. his brow furrowed in thought. “Who or what was it that got to the Emperor?”

 

Mike slumped in his chair, leaning into Brad's chest. “I felt magic, but not our kind. It was wrong.”

 

Both Doc and Rudy, the company's most adept magic users, spoke at once. “Wrong How?”

 

Mike trembled as if reliving the moment the Emperor was killed. “It felt oily, and made me sick to my stomach. There was a smell, too. Faint, but it was there.”

 

Rudy and Doc shared a glance both frowning, and Rudy spoke to the others. “When we dock, maybe we should go see the Mothers. They may know what it is.”

 

Ray groaned. “I’ll let you deal with those creepy ass witches, they freak me the fuck out.”

 

“Don't let Poke hear you talking like that Ray. Gina has finally been accepted by them and you know how damn proud he is of her,” chided Pappy from his spot behind Rudy.

 

Ray rolled his eyes. “Bro, I did not mean her. I mean, Gina’s awesome, it’s just, ya know, those others and their crazy witch stuff.”

 

A deep voice rumbled from the back of the cabin, “So how we gonna keep the Prince safe? None of us can get within a whiff of the Imperial City, we all have death notes on our heads.” Manimal, as Jacks was known as, blushed when all eyes turned to him.

 

Walt smiled at the larger man. “I may be able to help there. I have an associate who could infiltrate the palace and keep our good Prince Nate safe.”

 

Brad frowned and looked over at the young assassin. “You know they’ll check for any guild marks, and that crow guild tattoo you and your brethren sport is not that easy to hide.” 

 

Walt smiled. “The guy I have in mind never took his final vows, he found the actual act killing distasteful,” Walts nimble fingers stroked the Crow dagger he held. “He has the skill set to keep the Prince safe but also he is a well-respected scribe. I’ll get word to the Prince that he is in need of a new Official Scribe and urge him to suggest Wright for the job.” 

 

“Would Schwetje and the others let the Prince pick his own scribe?” Ray asked.

 

“They would, they want to keep him happy and agreeable to an extent and getting his own scribe would not be seen as problematic to them. As long as they approved of Nate’s choice, that is,” murmured Mike from his position in Brad's arms.

 

Brad stood looking at his gathered brothers. “Alright men, looks like we have the start of a plan. Ray get this bucket of rust headed home, and you.” Brad looked fondly down at his mate, “To bed. You need to rest.” 

 

Flying into the storm, Octavia set a course for home.


	2. Guilded Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prince gets a message and the Company gets organised

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to @celticPixie for being a wonderful beta ...and to Aces_low for having so much faith in this fic

Crown Prince Nate was in a foul mood. The loss of both his father and his lifelong friend had been almost more than he could bear. He threw himself into one of the overstuffed armchairs in his drawing room, long, finely sculpted legs thrown over the ornately carved arms. Not fuck was given for proprietary or proper manners. 

 

Trapped in a gilded cage, a puppet for that snake Schwetje and his frog-faced toad Kasem to use, the impotent rage he felt was consuming. Picking up one of the gaudy embroidered pillows he threw it at one of the richly decorated vases that dotted the room. 

 

The sound of the targeted vase smashing to the floor was oddly satisfying. He peered at the breakfast tray that sat on his desk, and really the thought of food did not tempt him but he knew not eating would be seen as a sign of disobedience.  

 

Rising from the chair, he stalked over to his desk. He eyed the tray, noticing that cook at least had made sure not to include porridge, thank the Seven for small mercies. His eyes alighted on a buttery sweet roll. His love for them was well known and the taste of them always took him back to happier times. He picked the golden roll up with finely boned hands and pressed the still-warm roll to his nose, savouring its rich smell. 

 

Taking a bite his teeth hit something foreign and his mouth meet the taste of metal. Frowning, he pulled the roll apart to find a slim metal cylinder inside, a tiny etching of a crow feather imprinted on its side. 

 

Nate looked around, assuring himself he was not being observed and the wards that had been placed around his room were still intact. Privacy assured, he sat at his desk and pulled his viewing lens forward, looking through it while he opened the cylinder. With a pair of moonsteel tweezers, he removed the message inside. It was written not in code but in an almost forgotten ancient tongue, which only four other scholars in the Skylands knew how to decipher.

 

_ “Two eagles dance on the wind,  _

_ The prince needs take a new scribe. _

_ Wright would fit your needs,  _

_ The brothers await their father's command.” _

 

Nate gasped and read the message again. Could it be true that Wynn had survived and, what's more, had reunited with his fellow Gryphons? Nate’s heart gave a solid thump, hope to peek in through the despair, but the next part of the message gave Nate pause for a minute until it dawned on him, a fine brow arching in humour. They send a scribe to guard a prince. The last part was simple, they awaited word of how he fared.

 

Nate stared at the message in his hand for a moment to overcome with emotion to think, but then his sea green eyes glowed a bright emerald and the paper in his hand combusted all at once. His full lips quirked into a smile at the sooty smudge that was left in his palm. Rudy would be please at the control he was finally learning.

 

When Nate had turned twenty-three his powers had manifested themselves. Magic was still mistrusted by many in the realm and seen as something dirty, the high houses looked down their noses at the very hint of magic calling. It was blasphemous and against the will of the gods. 

 

Nate’s father was an enlightened man and sought to have Nate learn control of his powers by enlisting Rudy, the renowned Battlemage and comrade of Wynn. It had been slow going and their practice had to be held in secret for if the hint of Nate's powers should become public it could cause a scandal for the royal house and give those who sought to usurp Nate's father, the Emperor, a weapon to use against them.

 

Letting out a pleased sigh, Nate relaxed back into the cushioned seat. There was hope and for his part he would use his position in the palace to gather information, learning what he could about the plans Arch-Chamberlain Schwetje had.

 

Nate was still permitted to go about his regular day, sitting in on Landsraad meetings, though he knew he was kept away from the secret meetings that were held between Schwetje and the more opportunistic houses of the Landsraad. He continued with his normal studies and research but most times he was shadowed by one of the Guards. Schwetje had paid them well to ensure they were only loyal to him.

 

Nate hastily wrote a note in the same old language, slipping it back into the small message cylinder and dropping it into his waistcoat pocket. Drawing his pocket watch out from his other pocket he sighed. It was time for him to make an appearance.

 

“Evan,” Nate called, summoning his valet and one of the few who was totally loyal to Nate. 

 

Evan, or Q-Tip, as he was known, red scarf wrapped head, peered in through the door. “You bellowed, Sir,” he responded, speaking with easy familiarity and humour.

 

Nate flashed him a grin. “Crown Princes don’t bellow, we enunciate clearly and loudly. I will have you know that I am a vision of Princely manners and behaviour.” 

 

Q-tip grinned as he walked over to the gilded armoire that contained Nates dress coats, grabbing out a richly embroidered plum jacket. 

 

Helping Nate dress, Q-tip tilted his head in the direction of the shattered vase. “That you being all Princely?”

 

“Oh, fuck off, Evan,” growled Nate playfully.

 

Q-tip and his fellow page John had been with Nate for years. They had, in fact, all grown up together. The younger men were both from lower houses and their families had always been steadfast and true to Nate's late father.

 

The two younger men with their open honest friendship had kept Nate going through these last months, consoling him when his father was murdered and Wynn framed. 

 

The three of them had their own small network of spies, all from the servant's ranks and all fiercely loyal and protective of their crown prince.

 

Standing in front of the dressing mirror they continued to talk about mundane things that anyone overhearing them would discount as court gossip and idle chatter, but Q-tips keen eyes caught the flick of Nate's nimble fingers. While Nate continued to speak aloud about the day’s organised events his fingers told the younger man the news.

 

_ Wynn Lives. Brad has him, I need to find the scribe, Wright. He is to become my official scribe. _

 

_ I know of Wright, he writes for the paper, but also a scholar of dead languages and historical events. Why him? _ Q-tip responded in kind.

 

Nate looked in the mirror at his and Q-tips reflection and shrugged. Q-tip stood back and looked the young prince over. “There you go, the plum really brings out your eyes, if I may say so, Sir.”

 

Nate rolled his eyes and quickly slipped the message cylinder to the other man, fingers talking quickly.

 

_ Get this to Hasser. _

 

Flashing a grin, Q-tip bowed with flowing formality. “As my Prince commands.”

 

===========================================================

  
  


**Hellespont**

 

“Rudy, do you remember when I told you how much I hate traipsing through this jungle?” Pappy's voice sounded petulant and tired and Rudy could hear him grunting and sweating at the annoying flying insects.

 

“Well, love of my life, you could have stayed back at the base and kept Ray and Jack company,” Rudy smiled serenely back at his mate.

 

“We spend a day stomping through this jungle and then we still have that damn cliff to climb. Damn eagles, they could have built their aerie closer,” grumbled Pappy.

 

Rudy looked at his dishevelled mate fondly. He knew there was no way that he would have stayed behind while Rudy went to check on Mike and Brad. Apart from the need to make sure their brothers were safe, it meant time alone with each other.

 

“You know as well as I that when Brad built that aerie he was not thinking about anyone else apart from Mike. It was a courting gift and typically over the top in the way of eagles,” Rudy reasoned.

 

Turning to look at his mate he pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, “Be thankful you fell for a Battlemage with simple tastes.”

 

Pappy looked askance at Rudy, rolling his eyes dramatically. “You are anything but simple.” 

 

Rudy could not help himself where the other man was concerned and leaned in for another kiss, this one a little less chaste. Rudy pressed into Pappy, forcing the other man against a tree trunk.

 

“Time for a 5-minute break, what do you say Paps?”   

 

Pappy shook his head and laughed at the other man. “You are insatiable.”

 

Rudy hummed his agreement, catching the other man's mouth in another kiss. Lost for a moment in the feel of Pappy’s mouth, he barely registered Pappy raising his arm or the soft click of the safety being released from his small crossbow, nor did he notice that Pappy, while thoroughly involved in the kissing, was also focused on something behind Rudy’s back.

 

The twang of the bowstring and a screech behind him had Rudy looking around concerned. Pinned to the tree by one of Pappy’s bolts was a very large, very ugly, very dangerous jungle spider. 

 

“Damn Paps, you always have my back,” Rudy whispered, a little in awe of his partner's skill.

 

Pappy gave a shrug, his cheeks dimpling in a smile. “Not like it’s a hard job, and it has some pretty good perks.”

 

Walking over to the still twitching corpse of the large spider Pappy motioned to it. “Gonna cut out the poison glands for Walt, he was planning on coming out to hunt some of these nasties. May save him the trip.” 

 

“Good idea, while you’re at it, you want to cut out its silk gland. A spider that size should have enough silk in there for Ray to make up some fresh rope.” 

 

Pappy smirked, noticing how Rudy kept his distance from the dead arachnid. Even dead they still tended to make the other man want to run and scream.

 

Rudy was one of the bravest souls Pappy knew, hell he had seen the other man take down a swamp drake single-handed, but Rudy did not like spiders of any size or shape and unfortunately, they chose to live on a Sky Island that was infested with the large and nasty variety.

 

Rudy watched as Pappy sliced the large spider open and quickly found the parts they wanted. 

 

“So when are you and Tim going to see the Mothers?” Pappy questioned as he wiped the spider ooze of his knife.

 

Rudy looked towards the skyline, noting the sun's position, then back to Pappy. “Gina got word from them this morning before we left, they will see us in three days and they want us to bring Mike. He saw and sensed this strange magic so they need to talk to him.” 

 

Pappy arched a brow and snorted. “ If you think Brad is gonna let him out of his sight anytime soon I got a Skypalace to sell you.”

 

Rudy scratched his head absently. “Yeah, dealing with an overprotective Brad may be a bit of a problem.” 

 

They worked their way through the thickly overgrown path, Rudy using the blade at the end of his staff to cut the occasional offending vine. The escarpment they were heading for soon came into view.

 

“I always wondered if the stories they told about Eagle Bloods were true,” Pappy wondered out loud.

 

“Which ones?” Rudy smiled. The other man seldom pried about the other men in their company.

 

“Well, for one, the stories that say they are born with actual wings and they get cut off when they are only a few days old. I always thought it was bull. Just another way to add to the mystique of the Eagle Bloods,” answered Pappy.

 

Rudy stopped walking and leant on his staff. “I know what I tell you goes no further and it would be in your best interest not to bring any of this up around Mike or Brad, but I will tell you what you want to know.”

 

Pappy nodded in agreement.

 

“Alright, yes, that part is true they are born with wings. Well, nubs of wings. They are cut off within hours of birth, it is part of the pact they had with the Empire--part of the peace agreement after the Cloud War. They swore to serve the Empire and never again to take up arms against it,” Rudy spoke solemnly.

 

Pappy nodded, he remembered his Nan telling him stories of when the Empire was founded and how the Eagle Bloods were the original inhabitants and rulers of the Skylands, but it was a millennia ago and to Pappy it all sounded like fairy tales.

 

“So what happens if the wing nubs aren't cut off, they end up with Wings like the Flying Harness creates?” Pappy wondered aloud.

 

“No, if and when that's happened the wing nubs tend not to grow into full wings anymore and intermarriage with the flatlanders means even less chance of offspring born with wing nubs,” answered Rudy

 

Pappy thought for a minute. “Ok, last question. The harness, do they work for all Eagle Bloods? I know if you or I put one on and tried to fly we would end up flat on our faces.” 

 

Rudy snorted out loud at the image. “As far as I know, only a few have the magic required and fewer still the ability to actually fly.”

 

Pappy groaned “ Aww hells, so Brad’s as special as he keeps telling us.” 

 

Patting the other man on the shoulder, Rudy laughed. “Afraid so brother, come on I want to make it to the escarpment before dark.”

  
  


===========================================================

 

**The Aerie**

 

Brad stood on the stone platform, scanning the jungle floor below. Clad in only a pair of loose linen breeches that hung low on his hips, he still managed to look every inch the dangerous warrior he was.

 

Mike leaned against the stone doorway, enjoying the unobstructed view of his mate. Until a few days ago Mike had believed he would die before seeing his mate again.

 

“They still ways off?” Mike asked.

 

“Yeah, it's going to take them a while, especially if Rudy keeps stopping to make out with Pappy at every tree,” Brad commented dryly.

 

“Seriously?” Mike walked over to the rock wall that separated the stone ledge from the sheer drop to the jungle floor below.

 

Scanning the jungle canopy he soon spotted the figures of Rudy and Pappy, and Brad was not joking, Rudy did indeed have Pappy pinned against a tree. Chuckling, Mike turned away from the ledge. “I don’t think we’ll see them before morning.” 

 

Brad shook his head. “Only those two would find cutting their way through a spider infested jungle a romantic getaway,” he said, his tone verging on disapproving. Mike knew his mate and knew deep down, under the hard Iceman shell he liked to project, was an actual beating heart.

 

Mike smirked. “Well, as I recall, a certain mate of mine used to find some fairly interesting places for us to make out, the top of the Grand Clock Tower I seem to remember was a popular one, but now we are an old mated couple. I knew the magic was going to wear off one day,” Mike sighed dramatically.

 

Brad laughed a loud hearty laugh, eyes twinkling, enjoying the playful side of his mate few got to see. “Babe, we’ve only been mated a year. Let's not call the death knell on romance just yet, besides things got a little crazy for us after our mating.”  

 

Mike felt himself sober, the still healing scars on his body a reminder of what had gone before. The fact was today was the first day since their arrival back from the Imperial city that Mike had been able to actually get out of bed under his own steam.

 

The first two days back were lost in foggy memories. Doc fussing, Brad constantly at his side, at one point Mike had woken and swore that being safe and in the Aerie was just some dream and he was still chained in the Imperial prisons.

 

He was not ashamed to admit that when he realised that Brad's arms were really around him and he was laying in his own bed he finally broke down; the months of torture and pain, the loss of the Emperor, it all was finally able to come out in chest-constricting sobs.

 

Brad held him until the tears had run its course then kissed him with a sweetness that was so intense Mike was finally able to accept he was home safe. 

 

Brad narrowed his calm blue eyes, his tilted head reminding Mike of the Great Sun Eagles before they swooped. “So this visit, has it something to do with the raven that arrived early this morning?” Brad did not bother hiding his displeasure at both their solitude and Mike's time for recovery being rudely cut short.

 

Mike sighed, knowing this was going to lead to an argument which he really did not have the energy for. “It does, Tim and Walt have headed back to the Imperial City, Walt wanted to get a message to Nate. Tim has gone along as his backup, not that our puppy needs back up, but I think it makes Tim happy.” 

 

Brad nodded. Getting information to and from the palace was of utmost importance and Walt, with his knowledge and skill set, was instrumental in its execution.  

 

“But that is not all,” Brad commented dryly. Mike walked back into the cooler confines of the aerie, readying himself for the argument that he knew was soon to come.

 

“In three days the Mothers have agreed to meet Tim and Rudy. They need me to come along, as I was the one who saw and felt the magic and what happened to the Emperor,” Mike spoke hastily hoping that Brad would just agree and see the sense in the plan.

 

Brad's eyes flashed cerulean blue, and standing straight to his full imposing height he spoke in calm measured words. “Absolutely not. As your Mate, I forbid it.” 

 

It had always been this way with them. Even though Mike was older, Brad had always been the more dominant partner in the relationship. Mike, with his more prosaic nature, had never found it an issue until right now. 

 

Mike strode up to Brad looking slightly up at the other man, poking Brad firmly in the chest as he spoke in as calm a voice as he could manage.

 

“You forbid me? Last time I checked we were partners, Brad. Equals. I am going to the Necropolis with them and that is the end of it.” 

 

They both stood glaring at each other for what seemed like hours, both waiting to see if the other would stand down, until finally, Brad sighed, pulling Mike against him.

 

“Fine, go see the Mothers, but I am coming with you. The Seven know what sort of trouble you will get into if I am not there,” Brad acquiesced.

 

Mike moved into Brad's space, wrapping strong arms around Brad's waist. “Rudy and Paps are not going to make it up here till morning, so that gives us hours to make do with. Any suggestions, Brad?” asked Mike as he brushed his nose along his mate's stubbled jaw.

 

Mike could feel the tension leave his mates body and Brad's arms encircled his waist in return. Mike hummed in pleasure as Brad’s thumbs rub slow circles on his lower back.

 

“One or two ideas, Mike.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


===========================================================

  
  
  
  
  


**The Imperial City**

 

Tim -- Doc, as the rest of the company called him -- watched from his vantage point by the market stall as Walt’s figure seeming to blend into the crowd and then disappear. Gods, it was creepy how he did that, but at the same time utterly fascinating.

 

Tim was not ashamed to admit he had spent the last year and a half trying to understand the young assassin.

 

When Wynn had shown up one day with Walt in tow and announced he would be joining them no one battered an eye, trusting Mike's judgement in the worth of the young assassin.  

 

Tim could see by the large raven tattoo that Walt was a full-fledged member of the Sisters of the Night, not some half-a-penny cutthroat and was both shocked and intrigued at the story of how Walt had come to be in Mike's custody.

 

“I caught this little shit trying to take a stab at the Prince, he was good but I’m better,“ Mike had growled as he had introduced Walt to the rest of the Brotherhood.

 

Walt had smiled a disarmingly sweet smile. “As I have told you, I took the contract under sufferance. I have no wish to see the Crown Prince dead, but when an offering is made to the Dark Sisters we have to accept. It is the compact we swore by, an oath is an oath.” 

 

Mike looked down at the young assassin and gave a smug grin. “That it is, and you failed in your mission so your life is in my hands. Just be glad it was me who caught you.” 

 

Tim had wondered how Mike had foiled Walt's attempt but had never pried into it, accepting that Mike was right and that the young man would serve the company well. A year and a half later and they had all found that the young man was a gift and had truly never wanted harm to befall the Prince.

 

Every action of the young assassin since that day had been for the benefit of the Prince and of the Company.

 

Which left Tim here, waiting, while Walt somehow made his way into the Palace to deliver a message. He had come along ostensibly to be back up but in reality Walt did not need someone to watch his back and Tim had just wanted a chance to spend time with the young assassin.

 

Doc moved through the busy market day crowds towards the large oak that was the centrepiece of the market. Dropping down onto the grass, he lay back and waited. 

 

He must have drifted off under the shade of the great oak because he woke to the smiling face of Walt. Squinting, Tim groaned.

 

“What are you smiling at Hasser?” 

 

“You looked relaxed, don’t think I have ever seen you without that scowl on your face. It was nice,” Walt grinned as he sprawled alongside Tim.

 

Tim screwed his face up in concentration. “I don’t scowl.”

 

Walt poked an elegant finger into Tim's cheek. “You're doing it now. I like it much better when you're smiling.”

 

Tim felt his cheeks heat up. When this girlish crush on the young assassin started Doc was not sure but he found he could not stop thinking about Walt and it was very distracting.

 

Tim sat up trying not to get trapped by Walt’s merry blue eyes. How could such a stone cold killer have such a merry countenance?

 

“So did you get the message through?” Doc asked, trying to regain some composure.

 

“Yes, now we just have to wait for a reply.” Walt leaned back on his elbows, letting the sun warm his face.

 

Doc tried very hard not to stare at the long line of Walt's neck as he enjoyed the sunlight, fighting the temptation to lick a long line from the points of his clavicle that were peeking out of his shirt the whole way up to his infuriatingly cute mouth.

 

“So we just wait,“ Doc sighed, laying back down on the grass.

 

“Yup, my insider in the palace will get the reply to us soon enough. I will go check the dead-drop later, so, for now, we just have to wait.” Walt didn’t sound annoyed by the situation.

 

Well, spending the day stuck in the city with Walt was not exactly a hardship. Tim had to admit anytime spent with the young assassin was generally pleasant and at least he was not stuck with Ray.

 

Tim pulled on his bottom lip in thought. “Do you think we have time to go to the street of knowledge, there were some, ah, books I wanted to try and find.” 

 

Walt hopped up with a fluidity that still had Tim in awe no matter how many times he had seen it, a hand extended to help Tim to his feet. Once he was upright, Walt did not release Tim’s hand but instead held it tighter.

 

“Come on, Scowly-face. Let's go find you some books,” laughed Walt.

 

Tim stared down at where their fingers were intertwined, clearing his throat he managed to mumble out a weak “OK.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments adored


	3. Falling for Princes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keeping an eye on His Royal Hotness was not a hardship. He was hidden by the branches of the wisteria watching the gardens.

Ray sat perched on wall overlooking the imperial gardens, keeping careful watch over the prince as he walked the grounds with his new scribe. Half the company had gone to the Necropolis to see the witches and the other half had gone to see their families while they had the chance, which left Ray to cover loose ends.

 

Keeping an eye on His Royal Hotness was not a hardship. He was hidden by the branches of the wisteria watching the gardens. He had met the Prince once, before everything had gone to shit, and found that he was fascinated and, quite frankly, smitten by the man.

 

When it was suggested that someone take position and keep a watch on the Prince, Ray had happily volunteered for the job.

 

He had been tinkering with an idea to make the passing of messages to and from the palace easier and a lot less risky, but only if he could get it to work.

 

Ray was an engineer and an artificer of the the guild of machinists. OK well,  _ technically _ , he was a servant in the guild as a boy, but he picked up and learned more than any of those upstart snobs who were already studying there.

 

And Ray had been putting all of that learning to use working on a way that the prince could message the company. It may work, but he was going to have to tinker some more, and he would need one of the companies mages to charge the Trapezoid Crystal he had acquired.

 

The Prince and his scribe walked under the wisteria, right below where Ray was precariously hanging. Trying to get a better view of the Prince, Ray leaned further over the edge of the high wall, reaching to grab one of the tree branches for support. The sudden snap of the branch left Ray hanging mid air for a moment, arms starting to pinwheel, and the next moment he was flat on his back in the royal garden bed.

 

Blinking owlishly, Ray internally started to asses the damage. Oww, yup, his butt hurt.  _ Could you break your butt? _ Ray wondered.

 

He was brought out of his musings by an amused voice. “Ray Person. What a surprise for you to just drop in.”

 

Ray turned his head to see a pair of long elegant legs standing before him. Lifting his eyes, he took in the regal elegance that was His Royal Highness Prince Nathaniel, Lord of the High Heavens, Guardian of the Realm.

 

“Your Royal Hotness, fancy seeing you here,” quipped Ray. 

 

The Prince smirked down at him. Ray could not help but notice just how perfect the Prince’s bow lips were or just how damn green his eyes were.  _ Pull yourself together, homes. _

 

“I am sure there is a reasonable explanation for why you fell off the wall and into my garden, Ray?” 

 

Ray could see Nate’s eyes searching around the garden, making sure they were not being watched.

 

“I promised the men I would keep an eye out for you while they were gone, and being here,” Ray pointed at where he lay on the ground, ”Well, that was me misjudging the load bearing strength of a branch. Happy accident though, since I get to gaze on your loveliness up close, Your Highness.” 

 

Nate shook his head a small smile playing on his lips. “You have no sense of propriety at all do you, Ray.”

 

“Not when I am around you, Your Sparkling Majesty.” Whoops, maybe he should stop with the flirting. The man before him was his Prince and the soon-to-be Emperor, but he could not help himself.

 

Another set of legs came into Ray’s view and a harried voice sounded from above him.

 

“My Prince, what are we going to do about him? The palace guards are due on their rounds of the garden soon,” Wright said tightly.

 

“Well, he cannot go back the way he came in, the wall is to high to climb and the guards would see him. Plus, I would not trust him to not fall again.” The last was said with a sigh.

 

Ray’s head was starting to hurt and so was his butt for that matter. He closed his eyes for a second and listened to the conversation going on above him.

 

“We can take him to my chambers without too much fuss, Q-Tip left the doors open onto the garden. Once we have him inside we can work out what to do with our unexpected visitor,” Nate's voice sounded above Ray's head.

 

Nate has a really lovely voice, Ray mused to himself, giggling when he pictured Nate saying other things to Ray.

 

“Do you think he has a head wound?” Evan, the scribe’s, worried voice questioned.

 

“No, from what Mike has told me and the last time I met him, this is how he is,” Nate sighed.

 

“Oh dear.” 

 

Ray felt himself hauled up between a pair of strong arms and led in the direction of the palace. Lifting his head, he saw he was being carried toward a large marble staircase and to the open landing above.

 

Evan ducked quickly through the open doors atop the staircase. “All clear, Your Highness.” 

 

Ray’s head started to really hurt and he had to close his eyes against the bright gas-lit hallway. He must have blacked out, because the next thing he knew he was lying on a very soft bed. The room was dim but he could make out the shape of the prince in a large armchair by the fireplace.

 

Ray rolled over to gain a better look at the reposing prince but the movement sent a wave of pain through his head. He let out a whimper, the prince turned to the sound 

 

“Ah, I see our sleeping beauty has woken. Keep still,” Nate commanded.

 

Ray’s eyes tracked the prince as he tried not to move his head too much. It still felt like a herd of druffelo had run through it. 

 

“Who’s rooms are these? I have to get back to the airship.” Ray got out of bed, wincing at the throbbing in his head.

 

Nate gave a smirk. “Mine, no one other than my scribe or valets are allowed in here, so you're safe from discovery for now. And, you wouldn't get very far dressed like that,” Nate pointed at Ray and gave him a wicked smirk. “A lovely view, but not one the guards would appreciate.”

 

Ray took a look at himself and realised he was just dressed in a pair of silk boxers. “Homes- I mean- Your Highness, where are my clothes?”

 

Ray blushed scarlet at the prince’s open appraisal of his body, but suddenly his vision went a little off and he felt woozy. A strong hand grabbed at his upper arm before he could fall and the prince guided Ray back to bed.

 

“You’re not going to be going anywhere while you’re still concussed, Ray. Once you’re feeling better we will work on a way to get you out,” Nate said as he fussed around the bed, pulling the covers up around Ray’s narrow shoulders. 

 

Nate went to walk back towards the armchair but Ray grabbed the prince’s wrist. Hey, he could blame the head trauma for making him act out on impulse, right? “Sit here and read,” he said. “Plenty of room.”

 

Nate cocked an amused eyebrow. “Okay, let me get my book.” Nate walked over to the armchair grabbing the book he was reading, and this gave Ray the opportunity to openly appraise the prince unnoticed.

 

The prince was tall - a good four inches taller than Ray - and it was those long lean legs that Ray kept noticing, encased in smart black trousers. Ray openly ogled at the way they hugged the Princes firm round bottom. The open laced shirt showed hints of the prince’s pale skin and Ray fought the urge to trace a finger down the finely sculpted collar bones.

 

The man had no right to be so good looking and a prince. It was like he was out off one of the fairy tales that his Grandmother used to tell.

 

Ray sighed and let his eyes slipped close. He was supposed to be protecting the prince, not falling off walls and being rescued by him. Brad would have a fit if he knew how Ray was ogling the ruler of their lands.

 

Ray felt the mattress dip as the prince climbed onto the bed. Positioning pillows behind his head, the prince continued to read.

 

“What are you reading?” Ray mumbled from his place amongst the blankets.

 

Nate tilted his head at Ray’s enquiry. “Um, it's a historical record about the Battle of Kingdom Falls.”

 

Ray turned onto his side looking up at the Prince. “That was the one that ended the bloodshed between humans and Eagle Blood right? The leaders on both sides agreeing that if they kept going both sides would end up losing unexpectable numbers of lives on both sides.”

 

Nate gave Ray a surprise grin. “Yes, my great-great-grandfather, the Emperor Vespasian, called a halt to the battle and met with the king of the Aeri. Both men were appalled by the bloodshed on both sides. In fact -“

 

Nate’s tone grew animated as he spoke and Ray found himself caught up in it. “It was Schwetje’s relative who wanted to keep the battle going. He wanted to see the Eagle Bloods wiped from the skies and history books.”

 

Nate held the book up for Ray to see. “This account is the least biased towards us I have found. A Warrior Scribe from the Gryphon Brotherhood wrote it.”

 

Ray reached a hand out from where it was nestled under the blankets and tapped the prince’s leg. “Read it out loud, I want to hear it.” What Ray did not say was the sound of Nate's voice had him feeling relaxed and floaty and he wanted to fall asleep listening to the sound of it.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**The wives of Quirinus**

  
  


_ Quirinus, God of Death and Magic. The wives are spiritual beings who act as his voice and judgment in the world of mortals. Whether the wives were once human is a matter of some debate among scholars. _

  
  


The sky galley made its way to the storm-shrouded sky island of Necropolis, situated on the very edge of the habitable limit of the toxic lower atmosphere. No one with any sense tarried here too long. The only inhabitants of the Isle were not welcoming of visitors and few would risk an uninvited visit.

 

The Wives of Quirinus were revered as much as feared and all grew up hearing frightful tales of their dark magic and prophecies. Poke’s wife, Gina, had been made Emissary to the Wives which had both pleased and terrified Poke. She had been able to arrange for the men to meet with the wives and had accompanied them to the Necropolis.

 

Mike stood on the bow of the galley, the winds whipping at his dark coat. Brad watched from the wheelhouse, seeing the tension in his mate’s shoulders. Mike had become more withdrawn the closer they got to the Necropolis. 

 

Brad knew the memories of the assassination were what were haunting Mike, as well as his worry for the prince. The time they had had in the Aerie had helped Mike’s physical wounds, but the wounds to Mike’s heart and soul were going to take a lot longer to heal. 

 

Brad had tried arguing with the others that Mike was not ready for this trip, but in the end relented mainly because he knew this was one argument with Mike he could not win.

 

The galley slowed and the sound of the engine cut as the pilot guided the craft towards the decrepit looking dock

Gina climbed down from the wheelhouse, her long skirts sweeping the deck and her shawl pressed to her nose and mouth to ward off the fouls smells emanating from the island.

 

Her sweet and melodic voice sounding across the deck, “The Wives will meet us at the grand amphitheater. It is neutral ground. Any deeper into the Necropolis would not be wise for one not devoted to Quirinu _ s. _ ”

Poke and Pappy would stay with the galley while the others went to speak with the wives. Pappy had voiced his displeasure, loudly, at not being allowed to accompany Rudy.

 

“Paps, you know magic gives you an itchy trigger finger when it's not one of us using it, and the Wives may take offence if you try to shoot one of them,” Rudy reasoned, running a calming hand down the the other man’s face. 

 

Pappy let out a disgruntled sigh. “I know, you’re right. Just don’t like you going off without me is all.” 

 

Brad rolled his eyes watching the two men, earning a sharp elbow from Gina. “You are just as bad with Mike,” Gina whispered. 

 

Brad glared down at the small, formidable woman. “We are not, those two still carry on like schoolboys with their first crush. It’s undignified.”

 

Gina fixed her deep brown eyes on Brad. “While they are openly demonstrative with there affection, yours and Mike's is no less. You forget, Birdman, I can see the strands of the mate bond between you, and the feelings of love and contentment the two of you share through the bond constantly is no different than the open affection Rudy and Pappy have.”

 

Brad had to admit to himself - and only himself - that since Mike’s return he had been keeping the bond between Mike and himself open, forgetting about prying magic users and their nose for things like it. He was tempted to clamp down on his bond to not have it so open but the thought of not sensing Mike did not settle well.

 

“Alright, let's get moving. I’d sooner be off this rock before nightfall if we can help it,” Mike’s gruff voiced sounded over the flapping sails.

 

Gina led the way down the gangplank and onto the rotting dock. Walt, ever watchful, brought up the rear.

 

They followed the broken cobbled path through the ruins of the Necropolis, winding down a path that led to the ancient amphitheater. At its center, a gaping hole opened to the sky below. Fetid fumes rose from its maw. 

 

Sitting across the gaping hole, seven ghostly women of indeterminate age sat on thrones of bone and steal. The most senior of the women, judging by her ornate cloak and throne, rose and floated across the maw.

 

“We have visitors, sisters. Ones who seek, but do they really want the knowledge we can impart?” The cloaked woman's voice was at once seductive and terrifying.

 

Rudy stepped forward, bowing low. “Beloved of Quirinus, we have come seeking answers to the assassination of our Emperor. Magic was used, but not one we are familiar with.”

 

Rudy stepped back, replaced by Gina who placed a platter of fresh fruits and vegetables in front of the women. “Offerings from the land, my ladies.” 

 

Circe, drifted towards the garland strewn platter and placed a hand in benediction on Gina’s head. “You have always been a thoughtful, girl, and such gifts.”

 

Gina preened under the attention of the Wife safe in the knowledge that her gifts were worthy.

 

Magdalena, the eldest of the Wives, drifted towards the men, stopping when she came face to face with Brad. Brad’s height made it few and far between that another could look him straight in the eye. Magdalena had no such problems.

 

Her slender finger pointed towards Brad and a voice like dried autumn leaves sounded in his ears. “You, Noble Blood. Don’t you hunger for times lost? Why protect one who’s line sought the end of yours?” 

 

Rudy looked over to Tim and mouthed, “Noble Blood?” Tim shook his head, as confused as Rudy.

 

Brad squared  his shoulders, casting a cold look towards where the Sisters sat. “How can I hunger for that which I have not known? The reign of my kin was dust and bones long before I was born.” 

 

Magdalena cocked her head and spoke in query, “But it calls, yes. The song of the Wind, to fly by your own wings and not those contrivances the mages fashion for you. Your Mate, he hears the call.” 

 

Brad sniffed disdainfully. “This has nothing to do with why we are here. My people’s past is just that. The past. The prince has always been good to my kind.”

 

Brad looked over to his mate, wanting him to add his voice to the discourse, but Mike seemed lost in his own head and Brad suspected he was already dreading the memories that the Wives would pry from him.

 

“Magdalena, stop tormenting the boy,” Circe said as she glided up to where the men stood. Brad bristled at being called a boy and it must have show in his face, because Circe laughed softly.

 

“Dear boy, take no offense. You are all but young boys to us, the Wives. It was not meant in insult to what you have achieved in your young lives,” she soothed.

 

Tim walked forward with Mike. “My Ladies, this man saw the fall of the Emperor and felt the strange magic that was involved,” he said, trying to bring the conversation back.

 

Circe drifted towards where Mike stood, a soft smile on her face. “I can see why your Mate is so fond of you. Silent strength.” The last, she said to herself. Circe reached out a hand and Mike hesitantly extended his own.

 

At the touch of her hand, Mike’s eyes opened wide, his mouth hung in silent shock.

 

“Show me,“ Circe’s voice intoned.

 

Mike gasped and soon the vapours arising from the maw started to coalesce, images forming in the mist. 

 

“That's the palace,” Rudy whispered in awe.

 

The images played out, showing Mike and the Emperor bent over a work table, maps and documents sprawled before them, both looking please. The image soon changed, showing inky tendrils creeping into the room. The next showed Mike trying to get in front of the Emperor and being thrown across the room by an unseen force.

 

The Emperor was lifted from his feet, his belly slit by an unseen blade, and slowly a figure emerged holding the limp body of the Emperor. Cloaked in black with a form still semi transparent, it threw the body away and stalked over to where Mike lay. A black steel-gauntleted hand reached down to Mike’s chest and a cold laugh sounded from the shadowed assailant’s lips.

 

Brad watched the images in horror as he watched the assassin’s hand became a translucent claw and reach deep into Mike’s chest. 

 

Brad shuddered, looking over to his Mate who seemed to be in some kind of trance. He turned back to watch the images on the myst and the image of his Mate having his life taken from him, but, in a turn the spectral assailant could not see, Mike’s eyes opened and flashed the colour of the summer sun, the corporeal assassin screeched in outrage as blinding golden light flowed from Mike. 

 

The assassin vanished back into the shadows and all that was left was the fallen body of the dead emperor and Mike’s unconscious form.

 

Circe released her grip on Mike’s hand, stepping back with a thoughtful look crossing her sternly beautiful face.

 

Magdalena hissed, “Necromancy,” like a curse. “Your Emperor’s killer was a Death Mage. This bodes ill for us all. One of their kind has not been seen for three hundred turns.”

 

Circe frowned. “My sister is right, the magic you felt was that of a Death Mage. It is a corruption of power and those who wield it mean no good for this world.” 

 

She then turned to look at Mike thoughtfully. “A Prince and a Sun Dancer. A fine mated pair for the Eagles you are.”

Brad scowled at the word prince. “There is no prince. The Blood Eagle royal line ended at the Battle of Kingdom Falls. The most important fact are that we have a Necromancer out there who needs to be stopped. Would it be to much to think that you will help us in this?”

 

The other sisters gathered around the senior two. Brad suspected, though words could not be heard, a conversation was being held.

 

Eventually Magdalena spoke as the other women drifted back to their thrones.

 

“We are bound by our oaths to this place and cannot leave, or take direct action against this Necromancer,” 

 

Brad snarled a frustrated sigh, shooting frustrated looks  to both Tim and Rudy.

 

Circe quickly spoke up, “But, we will open the Sacred Vaults of Acarnium to your mages. Within its confines lay tomes that will help with your quest.” 

 

Rudy spoke in tones of awe, “My ladies, that would be a gift of great help and honour, you do us a great service.” 

 

Tim who had stood quietly to one side with Walt looked thoughtful. “My lady Circe, one question if I may.” She nodded her assent. “You keep referring to Brad as a prince. Why? And what is a Sun Dancer? I have never heard of such a thing.”

 

Tim’s lip twitched upward as he heard Brad groan, knowing that the other man would prefer the matter dropped. Walt too had a small smile, enjoying the rare sight of there taciturn leader looking embarrassed.

 

Circe smiled and tilted her head in the direction of Brad. “In his veins flows the blood of the royal line. He is the last living descendant of the Royal house. An Icewing has always held the throne of the Aeri. Brave and noble men and women, each and every one.” 

 

Tim nodded to himself. Although it came as a surprise, it made sense. Something in Brad’s manner had always made Tim think of a lost king from the ancient tales.

 

Circe continued, “As for Sun Dancers, I am not surprised you have not heard of them. Their magic has not been seen in over 800 Turns. Strong and old magic, fueled by the fires of creation and destruction.” 

 

Tim shook his head. “Mike is no mage, Rudy or myself would have known.”

 

“Oh, but he is. The moment the necromancer tried to take his life his powers awoke. He will need your guidance and understanding, Son of Cuadicus, and from you Battlemage,” Circe spoke as she drifted off to her sisters, the conversation over.

 

Brad looked at the men his face unreadable. “We should head back to the galley for the night. We need to discuss this Necromancer and we need a plan.” 

  
  


Gina spoke up, “In the morning I will take Tim and Rudy to the vaults. They contain the world's knowledge of magic and the arcane, there has to be something there that will help us.”

 

With a swish of her long skirts she started walking up the path they had come down. Rudy, Tim, and Walt following obediently behind.

 

Brad noticed Mike still standing staring into the open void, his face troubled. Walking up, Brad rested a hand on Mike’s shoulder,

 

“You okay? You seem off in your own mind there.”

 

Mike reached up and squeezed Brad’s hand. “Yeah, ‘i'm fine. Just a bit worn out. We should head back before Gina starts yelling.”

 

Brad narrowed his eyes, not buying what his Mate had said, but knew pushing his Mate would not give him any answers.

 

They both turned to walk up the path, Brad’s hand moving to drape over Mike’s shoulder, guiding his mate back to the galley.

  
  


\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  


Back in the galley, Gina had gathered the men around the large galley table. “We eat, then we discuss what we are going to do.” She leveled a look at Brad, knowing he wanted to discuss what the Wives had shown them.

 

“Brad make yourself useful and get the fire going in the stove, Rudy you can get to work on those vegetables, quickly now. We will all be happier once we have some warm food in our bellies,” Gina bustled and ordered them. The men snapped to and did her bidding, grinning at each other knowing that none would refuse an order from this small firebrand of a woman.

 

Soon enough they all sat down to Gina’s stew, Brad bullying Mike to eat more when he noticed his Mate had hardly eaten and the others laughing at Mike’s muted mutters about Brad fussing like a mother hen.

 

Rudy let out a content sigh, pushing his empty bowl towards the center of the table. “So, I have to ask Mike, what was it you and the Emperor were discussing before the attack occurred?”

 

Mike smiled sadly across the table at Rudy. “A promise he had made years ago when I was a boy and first in his service.”

 

Tim leant forward on his elbows, “And that was?”

 

Mike quirked an eyebrow looking over at Brad. “ Autonomy for the Aeri. Self rule and governance. We would have still been under the protection of the Kingdom but we would have finally be our own to govern, no longer having to follow the dictates of the bureaucrats in the Imperial City.”

 

Walt, who Brad noticed was pressed close to Tim’s side, spoke, “Shit, that would have pissed off a lot of the Landsgard. The tithes alone that come from the Aeri mines and pastures must be worth millions of crowns a turn.”

 

Brad frowned in concentration. “But he would have had to already be in talks with the High Council of the Aerie, or at least some of them and who amongst those idiots would you trust to lead our people, Mike?” 

 

Mike tilted his head and looked at his mate. “Well, the Emperor had been in secret talks with the High Archon and a few Kingdom nobles whom he trusted. They had decided that what the Aeri needed was a leader proven in both battle and wisdom.” 

 

Brad nodded. “Sensible, but I do not see many possibilities. Most of the High Council are in there dotage and we lost half of our younger warriors to those skirmishes with the cloud raiders. We produce to few children, Mike. Our kind is dying out. Where would the Emperor even think to find someone?” 

 

Mike shook his head and gave Rudy a grin, the battle mage already knowing who they have picked.

 

Mike spoke softly, “Brad, you know who the obvious choice is. In fact, the Emperor had just told me of his decision before the assassin attacked.”

 

Brad glared at his Mate. “No.”

 

Mike put his hands up appeasingly. “It was going to be the right choice. A leader respected by both the humans and Wingfolk. The last of the royal line.”

 

“Mike, enough,” Brad growled out warningly.

 

Mike dropped his head, the others fascinated by the byplay between the two men. “It doesn't matter now, all the work the Emperor did is gone and Schwetje is pushing for total control of our lands and the extinction of our race. I would bet my wings he had something to do with this Necromancer.” Mikes voice was flat his shoulders slumped in resignation.

 

Rudy spoke, trying to lift the men’s spirits and dissipate the tension between Brad and Mike. “Well, I got news from the Imperial City. It seems our dear engineer somehow ended up inside the place and is currently being kept company by the prince.”

 

Walt laughed out loud “How the in the name of the Seven did he manage that?”

 

Pappy smirked and spoke up, “Well, seems he fell out of a tree and landed at the prince’s feet. Our dear prince has taken Ray in like you do with all lost strays.” 

 

Brad growled low, “He is going to get himself killed one of these days, if he is not careful.”

 

“Don’t worry, brother, the prince is a capable man and he will keep Ray safe for the time being. Look at it this way, we have one of our own inside keeping the prince safe,” Rudy reasoned.

 

Brad snorted. “The more likely scenario is Ray keeping a close eye on the prince’s royal backside.” 

 

They all snorted with laughter. Ray’s infatuation with the prince was well known. Tim’s quiet voice cut through the laughter, “Are we going to talk about the other issue the Visions showed us?” 

 

The rest of the group turned their heads to look at Mike who shrugged. “I have no idea what I did, or - if I did anything - I have no memory of it.”

 

Rudy got up and stepped around the table, coming to stop in front of Mike. “Brother, there has always been a spark of something in there,” Rudy poked Mike's broad chest, “it was just asleep and now it seems it's woken up. I can see it vibrate in the air around you, you just need to learn how to channel it.” 

 

Mike snorted. “I am no mage, Rudy.”

 

Rudy smiled fondly. “That, my brother, is where you are wrong.”

 

Gina, who had been watching quietly from her seat, spoke up. “In the morning, it will be time for us to plan and continue our talks, but I think we should all sleep. We have an arduous task ahead going through the vaults and I need everyone rested with minds ready for the work ahead.” 

 

The men headed off to their bunks, eager to sleep, and Mike followed quietly behind Brad. In their room, Brad quickly divested himself of his clothing and climbed into the small bunk.

 

“Spit it out, Brad. You’re pissed with me and I don’t need our bond to feel it either,” Mike grumbled still dressed and sitting on the edge of the bunk.

 

Brad focused on the knotted wooden beams above his head, frowning before he spoke. “I’m not angry with you, Mike, I just wish you had told me about this grand plan the Emperor had. I agree with most of it, just not the choice of ruler part, and I never would have said yes to it.”

 

Brad rolled onto his side, reaching out to run a hand down his Mate’s back. Mike leaned into the touch, sighing. “You’re a stubborn asshole and for the life of me I don’t know why you hate the idea so much, but it's your decision and I would never have forced you.” 

 

Mike slid from the bunk to remove his clothes. He could feel his Mate’s eyes on him as he stripped down. When he turned to face him, Brad gave Mike a warm smile and pulled the bed sheets back and smirked.

 

Mike just quirked a brow and laid next to his Mate, letting out a startled oomph when Brad rolled on top off him.

 

Brad nuzzled at Mike’s neck and murmured, “So, I guess you don’t want to talk about the other thing then.”

 

“Ah, no. I don’t,” Mike arched up as Brad’s hands wandered down Mike’s sides. All conversation stopped and then the only sounds were hushed moans and as Mike came Brad would swear that Mike’s eyes burned with a soft golden light.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Dark Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Ray's painful entry into the court, the Prince learns a little about Ray and Ray falls further in love. Plus there is a necromancer and some other stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry guys for the wait between chapters but I promise I will be updating regularly so @aceslow wont kill me and as always a huge thank you to the beautiful Celtic pixie for being the most amazing beta ever

Deep in the bowels of the Imperial City a man knelt in supplication before a broken mirror. Its frame was wrought from precious stones and metals, the carvings macabre portraits of the dark and forgotten gods of the Skylands, and in the cracked and broken surface a shadowy figure loomed with eyes that burned with a gas fire blue glaring down at the supplicant full of anger and disdain.

 

“You failed me Schwetje, the Sun Dancer still lives and has rejoined his mate. I need another sacrifice, and this time it needs to be royal blood,” the voice hissed.

 

“You cannot mean it, we have plans already in motion. The prince will do what he is told, his death would cause an uproar,” Schwetje said in return.

 

“His death will provide the impetus you need to take control, his murder at the hands of assassins will lend credence to your accusations against the winged folk, and his untapped power will be mine,” The dark Necromancer slammed his steel gauntlet fists on the mirror.

 

Schwetje shuddered and bowed lower. “You will need me to be the conduit again, my lord?” 

 

“Yes. Make the necessary preparations.” 

 

The mirror shimmered and the image of the necromancer was gone. Schwetje let out a pained gasp and collapsed to the floor, his body wracked with sobs. What had he allowed to happen? How had it gone so far? But even still, the chance to rule the Empire in the way he felt was best overrode his sense of guilt and right.

 

He justified the death of the Emperor and the inevitable death of the Crown Prince by convincing himself that it was for the good of the Empire. That once he brought the Empire back to its former glory and strength he would banish the Necromancer back to the seven hells, no longer needing his vile assistance.

 

A small sane sliver of his brain told him this was all so very wrong, but power was a drug and it silenced that small lonely voice in his mind.

 

Dragging himself up from the grimy floor he yelled for Griego, who had stood watch at the door.

 

“The Master has decided that now is the time to deal with the prince.” 

 

The smaller man gave a harsh smile. “About time that young upstart was dealt with. We don’t need him.” 

 

“I need a small detachment of guards, those loyal only to me. There is no time to waste, bring them here.” Schwetje commanded.

 

“Why here, Sir?” 

 

“The Prince has wards in place around his rooms. The cohort sent against him must have adequate protection.”

 

“The prince is no mage,” Griego scoffed, assured in his ability to take the young prince.

 

“You are as foolish as you are blind. The Prince hums with power. Untrained, but power nonetheless,” Schwetje snarled.

 

Berated, Griego bowed low and left the Arch Chancellor to seethe.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

  
  


Nate woke to the feeling of being smothered by an unfamiliar weight on his chest. Taking a few moments, he gradually woke enough to remember the previous nights adventures and that he had fallen asleep alongside Ray.

 

Ray for his part lay sprawled on his belly, head resting against Nate’s chest. He resisted the urge to reach down and run his fingers through the dark strands of messy hair. With his eyes closed in sleep, Ray looked quite beautiful in Nate's eyes. 

 

Ray was a surprising enigma, and Nate liked how quick the younger man's mind was. The dark tattoos that covered Ray/s body showed he had spent a life vastly different to his privileged upbringing.

 

Looking down at the sleeping figure of Ray, Nate noted the large bruise that had formed on his hip and no doubt trailed down his back side. It was one large tumble the young engineer had taken.

 

Slipping out from under Ray and off the bed, Nate walked over to where Ray’s napsack lay. He had been intrigued by a device sticking out of the bag and his curiosity finally got the better of him. He removed the slim copper box from the bag to look at the intricate gears and wire work. The face of the box had a small mesh aperture and there at the base were two small brass clips that Nate surmised a crystal could be affixed with.

 

The workmanship was exquisite and the level of design was master level, but what was it for?

 

Nate became aware all at once that he was being watched. Ray had woken and was sitting up in the bed, the linen sheets pooling around his slim waist. “ I made that for you,” he said sleepily, his voice this side of gravely, “just can’t get the crystal charged enough for it.” Ray blushed a little as he spoke. Holding the device, Nate walked over to Ray and sat down next to the engineer. 

 

“It’s beautiful but what is it?” He asked. Ray reached out and took the device from Nate’s hands, their fingers brushing lightly. 

 

“Well, your most royal Nateness, it is a voxbox. When you talk into it someone with an identically-tuned crystal can hear you. You could get messages to us and vice versa.” Ray rubbed his head absently. “Well, that was the idea, but I need a mage to tune the crystal and that is neither Doc nor Rudy’s strong suit,” Ray chuckled. “Last time Rudy tried he ended up overcharging it and it blew like a firework display.” 

 

Nate bit on his bottom lip. “I could try if you wanted, I am fairly good at it. When Rudy started training me he admitted to it being one of the things he failed spectacularly at when studying at Mage Hold.”

 

Nate felt unsure how Ray would take his admission. Many in the lands still feared magic users and distrusted them, but Ray was friends with both a Magister and a Battle Mage, so he hoped Ray would not be startled by his admission.

 

Rays deep brown eyes went wide and his hand reached out to hold one of Nate’s. “Dude, uh, You Highness, that is amazing. There hasn’t been a magic Emperor since…..shit, I don’t know when.” 

 

Nate sighed, letting a small sad smile slip. “Call me Nate, Ray, I think we can dispense with formality. I have seen you in your underwear after all. And the last Emperor Mage was Tiberius the Mad.“ Nate winced at the recollection.

 

Ray hummed in thought. “ That’s right, that mad motherfuck is the one who started the blood war between the Eagles and us, wanted the whole lot wiped out. He was some sort of distant relative of Schwije right? You know you’re not going to be anything like him, right? Damn I knew you were awesome but this just rocks.” 

 

Nate could not help but be a little swept up by Ray’s praise. It was nice to hear someone being honest in his appraisal. Ray would never lie about how he felt about something, Nate was certain of that.

 

Ray’s hand had not moved from where he had clasped Nate’s and Ray found that he did not want to let go. “Ray, how did you come up with the idea for this? If this works it could be one of the most important inventions of our time. No longer relying on ravens or messengers, this could change so many things,” Nate exclaimed. Holding the voxbox in his other hand, Ray ducked his head at the praise. 

 

“It’s not that special, just an idea I had. I wanted to make something to help you. I am not a fighter, though I am scrappy if it comes to it, and I ain't got any mad magic skills, but I can make cool shit.”

 

Nate smiled, gripping Ray’s hand a little tighter. “I cannot believe you made this for me, you risked your life last night to watch over me and this,” he held the voxbox to his chest, “this is just amazing. You’re a lot more than just an engineer, Ray.” 

 

Ray’s eyes glistened as he looked at Nate, a faint blush colouring his chest and cheeks. The moment was broken though by a polite cough announcing they were no longer alone. 

 

Q-tip stood in the doorway smirking, his arms laden with a full breakfast tray. “Breakfast, your lordship, and I have John bringing in a change of clothes for your guest.” The last was said with a hint of a smirk. “I took it upon myself to let the rest of the household staff know you have a new house carl. We have been needing one for a while and nobody really knows Ray here, so we can fake it.” 

 

Nate nodded shortly. That would solve the issue of Ray’s presence. A housecarl’s duties were to help run the lord or lady’s household affairs and more often than not to act as bodyguard and advisor to the lord. It would cause questions if Schwetje and his cornies objected and none of those men were overly familiar with Ray so the ruse may work. 

 

Nate released Ray’s hand slowly. Standing up, he directed Q-tip to leave the tray in the sitting room as John entered caring an armful of clothes. “Hope these will work. Wasn’t sure of your size, Ray, but they should at least fit better than those rags you were wearing.” 

 

Ray looked aghast. “Hey bro, dissing on the wardrobe choices of an injured man, low dude.” 

Nate’s voice came in from the sitting room.

 

“John stop tormenting Ray, I need you to run an errand for me.” 

 

Giving a jaunty wave, John ducked into the sitting room to leave Ray to glare at the finery laying on the bed. There were fine woolen breeches and a russet ruffled shirt, a finely embroidered waistcoat, soft woolen socks, and a pair of smart black boots that looked like they were the right size.

 

Ray’s fingers lightly touched the fine material of the shirt. It was fine spun linen so soft it felt like silk, never had Ray had such fine clothes. He was hesitant to put them on, fearing that anyone seeing him would be able to tell he was a fraud not fit for such finery.

 

“Ray, hurry up and get dressed. These sweet rolls will go cold if you don’t get out here,” and then more softly “Or I will eat them all.”  Nate muttered. 

 

Shrugging, Ray dressed himself. Taking a look in the standing mirror that stood to one side of the room, Ray had to admit he did not cut a bad figure. The breeches were a little more fitted than he would normally wear but they did not look bad at all. Turning, he could not help but look over his shoulder to see how his backside looked in the fitted breeches. “Not bad, Person, not bad at all,” he said to himself.

 

Ray walked out into the ornate sitting room and he knew he was gaping but they had carried (read: dragged) his nearly unconscious ass in here during the night, so now he could really see the rooms for all there pomp and splendour. Ray kept his hands close to his sides as he walked to where the Prince sat, afraid to touch anything for fear of breaking something. 

 

“Ray, relax. Come sit and eat,” Nate said, looking up from a plate of freshly buttered sweet rolls. “Sit here.” Nate pointed to a heavily carved chair next to him. Ray sat, still feeling a bit overwhelmed by the Prince’s hospitality and kindness. “I think,” the Prince said between mouthfuls of food, “you should stay here until your brothers return from wherever they have traipsed off to.” Ray had been looking at the ungodly amount of silverware in front of him trying to work out why anyone would need that many forks when the Prince made his announcement.

 

“There is no need, your Royal Nateness, sir, I can head back to Old Town. I do not want to put you at anymore risk.” The Prince twitched a finely manicured brow frowning. 

 

“Ray, you would be helping me out if you stayed, and besides, don’t you need a mage to charge the crystal? That will take a days work to prepare, so….” Nate reached over and broke open a roll. Taking a knife, he spread an ungodly amount of butter across it and handed it to Ray, who took the roll smiling.

“You know, sir, I am going to stick out like Syclax Hound balls around here right.” Nate patted Ray on the arm. 

 

“You will do fine, and my motives for keeping you here are two fold. I can help you and I can get your assistance for another matter.” 

 

Ray took a bite of the roll and nearly swooned at the taste before he looked over at the Prince “What is this other matter, sire?” 

 

Nate pouted. “What did I say about the formalities, Person. Nate is my name so please use it, and the matter has to do with the murder of my father.” 

 

Ray looked at the Prince shrewdly, lowering his voice. “You know who did it.” 

 

Nate stood and put his finger to his lips indicating silence. Walking to the doors of the royal apartments, he placed his hand against the solid timber door. His hand was engulfed in a green light for a few moments, then it faded and the Prince looked satisfied. “The wards should be strong enough now so no little eavesdroppers can listen in.” Walking over he took his seat next to Ray. “I believe strongly, Ray, that Schwetje was responsible for or at least was a key factor in my father's murder.” 

 

“So you want to find out the whys and hows, Nate?” Ray questioned looking intently at the Prince.

 

“Yes, I think some of it has to do with what Mike and my father were working on, I want to look around my father's study but Guard Captain Patterson has had it looked up tight since my father was killed, Nobody, not even the Arch Chancellor can enter.” Nate sat back down next to Ray, crossing his long legs at the ankle, hands resting in his lap. The look he gave Ray was earnest. “Will you help me, Ray?” 

 

Ray does not even have to think his answer through. Turning in his chair, his knees brush against Nate’s legs. Reaching out, he grabs one of his hands. “You can count on me,” Ray says and he is already going through his head what would be required to get into the locked study as he says it. “We would need to pick the right time to break in. Change of guard maybe?”

 

Nate looked down to where their hands were joined and the soft pink of his ears had gone red. “Ray I don’t know how to thank you.”

 

In a show of mock gallantry, Ray lifted Nate’s hand and kissed it. “My dear prince, no thanking me till we have commited the break in and gotten the voxbox to work, then I am sure I can come up with a suitable payment.” Ray winked and was pleased with the smile that spread over Nate’s face in return.

 

Releasing Ray’s hand and sitting back, Nate smoothed his black waistcoat. Ray could already see the prince was thinking about plans and it struck Ray that the prince had been trapped in this gilded cage since the Emperor had been assassinated, only attending imperial functions with Schwetje in close proximity. He doubted that Nate had even been allowed time to grieve the loss of his father. 

 

“Sire, umm Nate, how are you holding up? This must have been hell for you.” Ray lent forward searching the prince's eyes. He could see the bright green of his eyes cloud for a moment. 

 

“I am doing as well as expected under the circumstances,” Nate said in an attempt to brush aside Ray’s question.

 

“That's not an answer Nate, your whole world had been turned upside down. You lost your father and you are not even allowed to rule in his stead thanks to Encino taking control,” Ray probed, leaning forward a bit further in his seat.

 

“Encino, Ray?” Nate’s eyebrow popped in question.

 

Ray let himself give a cocky grin. “The man looks like one of those cave paintings they keep finding of the first men to settle the skylands.” 

 

Nate snorts a rather inelegant sound that Ray finds highly amusing. The prince needed to smile and laugh more in Ray’s opinion. “As for your question, I am OK, Ray, I promise. I just want to get to the bottom of all of this. I have a feeling things could get very bad for us all.”

 

Ray thought back to the night they had rescued Wynn and what he had said. “Mike mentioned he felt bad mojo when he and the Emperor were attacked. Said it felt wrong, and they were going to go see the Mothers and try and find out what it was.”

“Bad mojo? Ahh, magic, right. Did he say what he and my father were working on?”

 

“Nah, he was fairly wiped and Brad was all giant mother hen with him, you know how Eagles get with their mates,” Ray laughed.

 

“I do, when Wynn was first thrown in the dungeon I had visions of Brad storming the palace all fire and fury,” Nate respond.

 

“Yeah, that nearly happened but Jacks and Rudy pinned him down and then Doc did some finger wagging and knocked him out cold. We kept him tied up till he calmed down, that was an unpleasant two weeks.” Ray cringed remembering Brad’s rage at not being allowed to fly off and kill everyone in the way of retrieving his mate.

 

“You know Ray, my father never believed the trumped up charges that were laid against Brad and the other Gryphon Bloods, but the Arch Chancellor and his minions hold to much sway over the landsraad.” Nate ran his fingers along the fine brocade of his waistcoat as he spoke.

 

“Get the one thing that stands between the Emperor and harm out of the way,” Ray said, tilting his head at Nate in a knowing nod. Their conversation was halted by a brief knock on the door and the entrance of John followed by the scribe Evan. 

 

“Well, I managed to find these,” John said, holding out a small velvet pouch. “Scribe here made noise about needing them for research you were doing. They are not the best crystals but they should work.”  

 

Inside a velvet bag lay five glittering trapezoid crystals. Ray took the bag from John and cleared space on Nate’s desk to lay them out, walking back to the bed chamber he retrieved the voxbox and its counterpart that was still in his rucksack.

 

“First we have to see if they will fit. I might need to make some adjustments.” Ray focused on the wire cage that would hold the crystals. The other men in the room watched, fascinated, while Ray worked.

 

As Ray worked he could hear the other men speak but, being more focused on working on the voxbox, he did not notice that both Scribe and John had left. Nate was standing off to one side silently watching him. 

 

Peering up from his work, Ray took a moment to look at the prince. He had shorn his hair since the last time Ray had seen him and his young handsome face had become more closed off. Ray remembered fondly their first meeting, seeing the prince’s head thrown back laughing loudly at something Mike had said. 

 

Ray did not believe in love at first sight but the sight of the Realm’s prince like that had his heart doing little flip flops. When Mike had ushered him over to meet the prince, Ray for the first time in his life became speechless. Up close, the man was beautiful. The prince had eyes so green Ray had wondered if they were real or some trick of the light. When Ray finally found his voice it was to make fun of Brad’s and Mike's mating ceremony. Well, more Brad’s need to drag Mike off halfway through the dinner. Mike blushed and Nate roared with laughter and that was when Ray knew he was fucked. He had fallen for the Prince of the Realm. He, a former street urchin-turned-engineer for the Gryphon Brotherhood wanted to woo the prince.

 

Here and now, Ray knew he had to focus to help Nate and not get caught up in his crush, there was a world and Nate’s life at stake. He was trying to connect a fine silver wire to the internal workings of the box, but he needed to solder the wire to the base and he needed two hands for that. “Hey Nate, umm would you mind helping me a second? I need to have two hands for this,” Ray beckoned the prince over. Nate lent over the device as he was bid. “Here, hold this wire here and here,” Ray directed, placing Nate’s fingers where he needed them and pulling his soldering wand out of his pack. He saw that there was only a little charge left in the crystal power source and groaned. “This better work the first time.” 

 

Ray worked quickly, strongly aware of his close proximity to the prince, but keeping his thoughts to the business at hand he managed to join the wires with only one small burn to his fingers. “Right, now all we need is a charged crystal and we should be good to go,” He said, leaning back. Nate stepped back from the table, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles.

 

“Alright, I guess this is where my job starts. Pick which crystals you want charged and we can start,” Nate said.

 

Nate helped Ray clear away the remnants of there work and set out a velvet cloth on the desk surface. Ray came back with the two crystals he thought were perfect and placed them on the cloth. “Anything else you need?” he asked.

 

Nate’s face scrunched in thought. “Draw the curtains, would you? And fill a basin with water, please.” Ray hurried about drawing the curtains so the room was only lit by the small gas lamp on Nate’s desk and hurried to fill the large porcelain wash basin, bringing it over to the desk. “Why the basin?” 

 

Nate smiled at Ray, no hint of condensation in his features. “When charging crystals, there is a likelihood of a spill over of power. The water draws off any spill over and stops me setting fire to the drapes again.” 

 

Ray grinned. The thought of Nate not being good at something was inconceivable. “Wait, again?” 

 

Nate gave a rueful chuckle. “I have always been one to run before I could walk, and there were several instances of drapes burning and, on one occasion, Q-tip’s hair.”

 

Ray let out a laugh. “That why he wears that headscarf?” Nate ducked his head in a show of embarrassment. 

 

“To be fair, I was only just learning at the time. I mean, it has been twelve months since I set fire to anything.” Nate stopped and chewed his lip, eyes twinkling. “Well, not anything important.”

 

“Ok, so do I need to do anything or maybe leave the room so I don’t distract you?” Ray knew he could be a distraction. Brad had told him on many and various occasions.

 

“No Ray, if you could just sit quietly it helps to have someone close, act like an anchor,“ Nate mused.

 

Dragging one of the arm chairs over to Nate's desk, Ray sat down. “Anchor? What does that mean?”

 

Nate sat in his chair looking at the crystals laid out, then looking at Ray said, “Well, it's good to have someone to help keep you focused. You can easily get lost in the power you’re drawing from the Epithelium, it can be dangerous if you don’t have someone to anchor you to this world. Mages have burnt out channeling to much power and died.”

 

Ray sat up straighter, reaching out to place a hand on Nate’s forearm. “Well, we definitely do not want to lose you, sir, I can definitely be your anchor. What do I do?” 

 

Nate smirked. “Nothing too taxing Ray, just be you. Let your mind be open and focus your thoughts on me.”

 

Ray laughed then blushed. “To be honest, for the last two days you are pretty much all I have thought about.” Nate smiled softly while he prepared himself, and Ray spoke softly “Do you always need an anchor?” Nate shook his head. 

 

“No, not for small things, but charging these takes a bit more power and I want to be on the safe side.”

 

Ray watched as Nate’s forehead wrinkled in concentration, his eyes glowing softly. His  normally jade green eyes took on a emerald glow, his hands sitting either side of the crystals.

 

Ray held his breath, afraid that any movement or sound may break Nate’s concentration and ruin the charging. He was making such an effort to stay still and silent that he was startled by Nate’s soft voice. “You can speak Ray, in fact it may help me concentrate, strangely enough.” Nate continued to focus on the crystals, small beads of perspiration forming on his brow. 

 

Ray’s jaw dropped. No one actually ever encouraged him to talk, even Mike at his most patient had threatened on the odd occasion to gag him. ”Uhh, OK, what do you want me to talk about?” 

 

“Tell me about yourself. Where you grew up.”

 

Ray looked at the richly decorated room. The tea service alone cost more money than most of his family had seen in a lifetime. He sat back in the large chair.  “You really want to know that stuff?”

 

Nate huffed a frustrated sigh, “Yes, Ray. I do.” 

 

“Just checking, but alright. Well, my family is from the Myscatonic Islands originally, but the rise in the toxic cloud banks started killing crops and making us all sick, so we ended up moving to Old Town when I was five. Dad took off to parts unknown and it was just my mom and I.” Ray sighed remembering the hard times they had faced.

 

“How did you and your mom survive? It could not have been easy just the two of you, being uprooted from what you knew,” Nate asked, his eyes now closed as he started the slow trickle of energy into the crystals.

 

“It was hard but Mom was a contraptor, she should have gone to study at the Guild schools when she was younger but her father would not allow it, so she just built and created things to help the farmers. When we moved to Old Town she started fixing things for people who lived there, I swear most of the time she did it for free.” Ray smiled fondly at images of his mom going about her workshop, apron dirty and glasses smudged.

 

“When I got older, around eight, I went to work at the Guild of Engineers as a odd jobs boy, Mom had gotten sick and I wanted to help bring in money.”

 

Nate’s eyes fluttered open, still concentrating on the crystals but also focused on Ray. “You went to work at eight years old,” his tone incredulous.

 

“Yup, and I was not the youngest there either. Started just sweeping up and cleaning the labs for the students but then the Guild head caught me fiddling with a device a student had thrown away. I just wanted to make it work. It was a handheld rotoscope, you could look in the eye pieces and see moving pictures but the aperture was broken. The Head came in and saw what I was doing.” Ray ran a hand through his long dark hair. Shaking he head, he smiled ruefully. “I thought I was about to get in big trouble, but he sat and watched as I fixed it, seems he knew my mom and  had a lot of respect for her. He could not offer me a place officially at the school but started giving me lessons between my work and he was the one who fought to get me accepted to the Guild when I turned fifteen.” 

 

“Did they end up accepting you into the guild? It sounds like they should have and by what I have seen of your work they would have been fools not to,” Nate replied earnestly.

 

Ray made a seesawing motion with his hand. “Well, they kind of did not want to let me be a full member. Thought I would bring down the tone of the organization.” Ray rolled his eyes dramatically, “But they made me an associate of the Guild and I got some of the perks. I could use the labs when they were not being used by full guild members and I could get stock and supplies a bit cheaper.”

 

Nate made a derisive snort. “Well your Guild, like most of them, are all pompous fools more worried about appearance instead of what the person brings to the guild. I get the feeling if circumstances were different you would be Guild head by now.”

 

Ray felt himself preen under the praise of his prince, he knew he was probably blushing but could not find it in himself to care. “I don’t know about that Nate, I have this condition that seems to impede my getting anywhere in life.”

 

Nates eyes widened. “What condition, Ray?” 

 

Ray grinned. “Big Mouth Syndrome, it's fairly serious and leads to me getting beaten up and threatened with defenestration all the time.” 

 

Nate rolled his eyes and made a decisively non-princely sound. Giggling, Ray could not help but smile at the prince. He was so fucked up over this man. It was a pipe dream, but Ray could not help but want to imagine what it would be like to be the center of the prince’s focus and attention.

 

Nate stood from the desk suddenly, stretching out cramped muscles. Ray could not help but ogle the lean lines of his body. Catching Ray looking, the prince winked and Ray could swear Nate was actually swinging his hips as he walked over to the armoire to pour a drink.

 

To distract himself, Ray went to look out the Great Room window. The sky had taken on the half light of dusk and the sun had nearly set. Ray noted that they had not seen or heard from either of Nate’s pages. “Umm, shouldn't Q-Tip or Christeson have been through by now?” Ray wondered out loud.

 

Nate turned from where he stood at the armoire. “Hmm, you’re right, they should have been here with the evening meal.” Nates brow tightened. “I need to go find them.”

 

“No, your highness, you’re going to keep that pretty ass right here. I can go find them or find out what has happened to them.” Ray headed into the prince’s bedroom and grabbed his backpack. Rummaging around, he found the small tin buried in the depths of the bag. Nate had come to stand behind him, peering over his shoulder as he opened the tin. Inside lay small tweezers, small magnifying monocle, and an assortment of lock picking paraphernalia. Removing a few items from the tin, he slipped them into the cuff seam of his shirt. At Nate’s inquiring look, Ray shrugged. “I don’t know what I will find, it’s always better to be safe than sorry.” Nate gave a curt nod and went over to the dresser. Coming back, he handed Ray a slim silver blade sheathed in a fine leather case. “To be on the safe side, Ray.” 

 

Ray took the offered blade and gave the Prince a flamboyant bow, “I shall return.” 

 

Nate reached out and grabbed Ray’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Be careful, no heroics, and no getting caught. We don’t know if anything has happened to them, this is just recon. Right?”

 

Ray found himself giving Nate a cocky grin. “No heroics, find the boys, dinner and dancing later.“ 

 

Nate nodded along until the last. “Dinner and Dancing, Ray?” 

 

Ray grinned as he slipped on a jacket. “Well, a man can dream, your Highness.” Happy with the slight blush that tinted the prince’s cheeks, Ray slipped out of the Royal apartments and into the quiet halls of the palace. This time of day most of the courtiers had returned to their own apartments and it was mostly the household staff wandering the halls. Ray made himself as inconspicuous as possible. 

 

Keeping close to the wall, Ray made his way along the deserted hallway until he came to the small stairwell leading to the servants quarters. Slipping downstairs, he followed the twists and turns of the hallway until he came to the room that Nate had said Q-Tip and Christeson shared. The door was unlocked and Ray carefully pushed the it open. Slowly entering, he was shocked by the sight he was met with. The room was in turmoil. Broken furniture and signs of struggle, there were bloodstains on the floor and Q-Tip’s red head scarf lay torn on the floor.

 

“Shit, not good not good at all,” he mumbled. Backing out of the room, he ran right into Scribe, who looked ashen. “What the hells happened here, Scribe?” he hissed, taking hold of the unsteady man.

 

Scribe was heaving breaths, looking like he was about to pass out, so Ray dragged the man back into the ruined room. “OK homes, calm down and breath,” Ray said, awkwardly patting the other man’s arm trying to calm him down.

 

“The Arch Chancellor's house guard came. They started asking who was the Prince’s housestaff and then started dragging them off. Said they were wanted in questioning for something,” Evan blurted out, “I was coming back from the kitchens when I heard the commotion and I...“ Evan looked down at his feet. “...I hid.”

 

“Hey, that’s OK homes, really. If you hadn't they would have got you too,” Ray reassured the Nervous Scribe.

 

“Do you think you could get yourself out of here without being seen?“ Ray asked, panic and fear for the prince gnawing in his gut like a ravenous rat.

 

“Umm yes, but the prince, they said the Arch Chancellor wanted him, too!” Evan looked as panicked as Ray felt. 

 

“Don’t worry that brain of yours, Ray-Ray has this covered. I am going to go get the prince and then get out of here. Do you know the Broken Drum in Old Town?” Ray already had a plan of sorts but needed to know that the Scribe would be able to get himself out of the palace.

 

“Yes, by the docks. I know the place.”

 

“Good, friends of ours run it and they can get us off this Island without too much notice. I am going to get the prince, so keep your head down and stay safe.”

 

Evan nodded and ran back towards the kitchen. 

 

Ray ran as fast as he could back to the royal apartments, thankful of the quiet hallways and lack of people. Sliding to a halt when he came to the door, he let himself in. “Nate, get some gear together we have to ..OH Shit.” 

 

Ray’s eyes fell upon the young prince who was sprawled on the floor unconscious and bleeding. Seven hulking men stood around his fallen friend. The prince had obviously put up one hell of a fight judging by the scorch marks the men and furniture wore.

 

Slipping his dagger from his belt, Ray grinned with feral ferocity .“Which one of you fuckers wants to dance first.”

 

As he stepped forward to defend his prince, he felt a painful crack to the back of his head. His eyes swam, the pain ricocheted about his head, and he reached out to the prince as he fell to the floor unconscious.

 


	5. Learning To Fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first thing Ray became aware of as he came to was that his head hurt like a son of a bitch. How many blows to the head in a 24 hour period was considered unhealthy? His second thought was, where was Nate?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its Up ..as always a huge thankyou to my Fae Queen Celtic pixie she muddles through the insanity that is my grammar and spelling.

The first thing Ray became aware of as he came to was that his head hurt like a son of a bitch. How many blows to the head in a 24 hour period was considered unhealthy? His second thought was, where was Nate?

 

A groan from beside him answered the Nate question relatively quickly. Opening his eyes, Ray had to strain in the darkness to see the prince lying alongside him bound in manacles hand and foot identical to his own. Ray could also see a pool of blood near the prince's head, courtesy of the wound he was now sporting. Peering through the darkness Ray could see the wound had started to scab and the prince’s breathing, while shallow, was regular. 

 

_ Ok Person, think. How are we getting out of this? _ Ray looked around the cell, which was cramped with a small barred window up high on the far wall. The door looked to be solid reinforced oak.

 

He could hear muffled voices outside the cell, guards most likely. Dragging himself closer to the door he could hear the conversation.

 

“What are we gonna do with the other one? The boss only needs the prince for the sacrifice,” a voice asked.  Another voice, one Ray recognised as Griego, replied.

 

“The prince is going to be sacrificed. The Master will then have enough power to cross over. The street rat I could care less about. Once they’re dead I want the bodies thrown out into the street. Make it look like the Engineer killed the Prince.”  

 

“Why?” 

 

“It will help the Arch Chancellor stir up the people, get the landsraad on his side with the crackdowns on Old Town and the Aeri.” Ray could hear the sneer in the other man's voice.

 

“Arch Chancellor Schwetje wants them brought to the tower tonight, it needs to be done when both moons are at their zenith. No fuck ups or we are all dead,” Griego warned 

 

Ray could hear the bolt being slid in the cell door and he quickly dragged himself closer to the unconscious Prince.

 

“Looks like the street rat’s woken up.” Two bowls filled with grey gruel were slid across the floor. “Eat this, the Master wants you both fed.” 

 

The door slammed shut again and Ray sniffed at the slop in the bowls, wrinkling his nose at the smell. Dipping a finger in he went to lick it when the princes manacled hand grab his “Don’t Ray, it’s dosed with poppy.”

 

Nate had crawled closer to Ray, his eyes still unfocused and the drying blood on his face making him look sallow and tired. 

 

Ray tipped the two bowls down the straw covered sewer grate. “We just have to make them think we ate it” covering the grate with the filthy straw that littered the floor.

 

He found the bucket of water and ripped the hem of his now ruined shirt. After soaking the cloth, he came over to sit next to the Prince. Lifting Nate’s head into his lap Ray started to wipe away the dried blood, avoiding the actual cut for fear of reopening it. Nate lay still letting Ray work, relaxing a little under his care.

 

“We need to get out of here Nate, I don’t know what Schwetje has planned but it can’t be good,” Ray whispered as he stroked the prince’s head.

 

“How Ray?” Nate grimaced as he pushed himself upright. Leaning his head against Ray’s shoulder he let out a sigh. “They dosed me with something. I cannot even summon a small puff of smoke, let alone something strong enough to get us out of here.” 

 

Ray gently bumped his head against the side of Nate’s. “Leave that to me, your royal hotness. Old Ray Ray has some tricks up his sleeve.” 

 

They both sat up when they heard voices outside the door. Ray got up and moved around Nate so that he was between the Prince and whoever opened the door and when the door was pushed open Griego stood there, an arrogant sneer on his lips and two burly guards behind him.

 

Lifting his chin, eyes narrowed, Nate spoke. “What gives you the right to imprison us? I am your prince and rightful ruler of this realm.” Nates voice was steel, his tone calm, and Ray found himself staring in awe at the young prince. Bound and beaten he still managed to be regal and demanded respect with his tone.

 

Griego stalked forward. Raising his hand he went to back hand the still sitting prince, but as the man's arm came down to connect with the prince's face Ray caught his wrist. Griego looked shocked that the smaller man had interceded and stared at where his wrist was grasped by Ray’s manacled hand.

 

“You don’t get to do that. No one lays a hand on my prince while I am breathing.” Ray’s tone was a lot steadier than he felt but there was no way that he would stand by while this asshole laid hands on Nate. Not on his watch. 

 

“What's Old Town scum like you going to do to stop me?” Griego went to pull his arm free.

 

Ray quirked a brow and smiled viciously. “This.” Ray pivoted and twisted Griego’s wrist in a fast move, bending Griego’s hand back at a painful angle, not stopping till he heard the crack. The man let out a loud yell as his wrist snapped and Ray released him just as the guards ran into the cell, one viciously punching Ray in the side of the head, dropping Ray to his knees.

 

“You're both going to die tonight. It's going to be slow and painful and I will enjoy watching every moment,” Griego groaned through pain breaths as the other guard lead him from the cell.

 

Ray could feel unconsciousness dragging him down and gave a shaky smile. “Just try it, fucker.” 

 

Ray was still conscious when he felt the first blows land but after that he faded into a red haze of pain, praying they were not beating Nate as badly as they were him.

  
  


+++

 

The beatings went on for what felt like hours. Nate felt helpless his hands bound and his magic blocked, watching as Griegos thugs lay into Ray. Nate could feel his rage building, they had not started to beat him but every blow Ray took Nate felt. This brave man had stood by and tried to protect Nate, he had shown Nate more care and compassion in the last few days than he had been shown in years. Ray with his unabashed flirting and insightful comments, Ray who had shown pride and awe at Nate’s magic, Ray who had made the voxbox for him, Ray who made him smile. It was that last thought that set his blood boiling. 

 

The rage that filled his veins felt like liquid fire. He did not feel the first punch that Griego threw his way, and the second barely registered. All he could focus on was Ray's beaten and bruised body laying in a bloody pile upon the straw. 

 

Looking at Ray, Nate began to channel that rage, letting it form a ball of fire in his gut, pulling the strands of anger together with the love (it  _ was _ love) that he was starting to feel for Ray. He fought with the strands of energy, sending out tendrils of warmth and healing to Ray, ( _ Ray don't quit on me now, please be OK _ ), all the while fuling his rage at their captors.

 

Ray turned his head and through bruised and swollen eyes winked at the Nate. Ray was a tough, cocky, son of a bitch.

 

“Don’t hurt his highness too badly, we need him alive for the sacrifice tonight. Kill the gutter rat though,” Griego sneered as he left the cell.

 

In Nate’s periphery he could see one of the guards draw his sword, bringing it up to sweep a death blow.

 

Nate released all the rage he had in one large blast, a ball green fire expanding from him, setting fire to the hay and the guards as it expanded outwards without touching Ray or Nate. The screams of the guards were cut short and within a moment the cell was empty save Nate and Ray.

 

The sudden and violent expulsion of magical energy dropped Nate to the floor, so he crawled arm over arm to where Ray was huddled. “Can you move Ray? We need to get these manacles off and get our asses out of here.” Nate reached out and tried to wipe the blood from Ray’s eyes. He was starting to get more focused with his gaze and Nate breathed out a sigh of relief.

 

“My hand’s broken Nate I need your help. In my left sleeve you will find what we need.” 

 

Nate looked at Ray’s hand. It was already starting to swell and the skin had torn where a booted foot had tramped down on it. “We will get you fixed up once we are out of here,” Nate promised. 

 

“Lockpicks in my sleeve. Can talk you through it. Gotta get out of the palace. Find a place to hide.” Ray spoke slowly in half-sentences trying to get the words out through pained groans. Nate felt tears dripping down his face as he lent his head against Ray’s. “ I am so sorry, Ray. This is all my fault.”

 

Ray reached out with his good hand, grabbing Nate’s face. “Fuck that, this is not your fault and you just flash roasted those fuckers who were going to kill me. You were fucking awesome dude, and if we’re going to throw blame around, Griego and Schwetje are the motherless fucks to blame.”

 

Looking at Ray’s bloody face Nate could not believe how much this man believed in him and how much he had come to trust in Ray. Reacting on a whim, he pressed a quick kiss to the side of Ray’s bruised face before carefully moving Ray’s injured hand. He felt in his sleeve for the tools to extricate themselves from the manacles. 

 

Ray walked Nate through the steps of unlocking the manacles and with Nate’s nimble fingers it was not too long before they were free. 

 

“We need to get moving quickly, soon we're going to have the palace guard down on us.” Nate helped Ray get to his feet as he spoke, “There is an old sewage tunnel down here we can use if the grate is not locked. I remember it from when I was looking over the plans of the palace.” Ray shrugged at Nate’s questioning look, “Well I thought just in case anything happens while I was watching you I could have an escape route planned.” 

 

Quickly as he could Ray led the way to the grate. Keeping to the shadows, they avoided detection. Looking down at the open sewer, Ray sighed. “This is going to be unpleasant but we can follow it as far as the Sky Rail terminal then sneak onto a railcar and make for Old Town.”

 

Dropping into the stinking sewer, Nate reached up and pulled the grate back over, covering their passage. Reaching out he found Ray’s good hand and, giving it a reassuring squeeze, they set off through the dank smelly water hoping to avoid any chance of recapture.

 

The fetid water flowed around their knees making their progress slow, neither wanting to touch the slime-covered walls for support. Above them, they could hear the muffled footfalls of the guards sent to hunt them down. 

 

Ray pressed his finger to his mouth, motioning to the grate above them, from which voices floated down.

 

“They need to be found now, the prince must be captured and ready for Master Anatolia before the two moons rise tonight.” That was Schwetje voice and he sounded on the edges of panic. 

 

“Who the fuck is the Master?” mouthed Ray. 

 

Nate shrugged, not sure, but something about the name was familiar.

 

They crept slowly along the tunnels trying to keep the splashing down for fear of alerting the guards. 

 

“Once we get to Old Town I know somewhere we can hide till I can get a message to the men,” Ray wheezed. Nate was certain that the guards in there energetic beating of Ray had broken or cracked a few of his ribs, but he kept watching Ray willing the other man stay strong till they had reached safety.

 

Soon enough the cramped tunnel opened into one of the larger drains of the Imperial city. Ray lead the way to one of the iron ladders that dotted the tunnel at random intervals. 

 

“This one will take us up to the Sky Rail but it's gonna be a bitch for me to climb up,” Ray said, cradling his broken hand against his chest. There was no way he was going to be able to use it when climbing the steel ladder.

 

Nate looked at Ray then back to the ladder and, grinning, he dropped to his knees in the murky water. “Climb up Person, it’s the easiest way to get us out.” Nate looked back over his shoulder and had to laugh at Ray’s face.

 

“You cannot seriously be suggesting you’re going to carry me up there on your back.”

 

“I am Ray, stop talking and get with the program.” 

 

Muttering, Ray wrapped his arms around Nate’s neck. “Homes, this has to be going against royal protocol or some shit.” 

 

Nate grunted slightly when he stood but grabbing the first rung he slowly made his way up the ladder, pausing at the top to slide the manhole cover aside. The Sky Rail dock was quiet, most activity further down the platform.

 

“The way we look right now, we’re going to draw some attention to ourselves,” Ray said to himself, “ahh, but these may help.” Laying across baggage awaiting transfer to one of the skyliners Ray spotted a cloak and dress coat flung over a steamer trunk. “Here, put this on,” he thrust the cloak into Nate’s arms. “Cover up all that mud and blood on your clothing.” 

 

Nate looked at Ray’s battered and bruised face. “How are we going to explain that if anyone asks?”

 

Ray shrugged. “Just tell them I displeased my master and got a beating. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

 

Nate felt shame flood through him. “That happens?”

 

Ray ran a hand down Nate’s arm. “Yeah, unfortunately not all the bigwigs of the Imperial City are like you. Most are assholes. They see the servants working for them as replaceable throw-away commodities.” 

 

Ray pointed to a small Sky Rail car swinging slightly on its rail. “That’s the one to Old Town, not many passengers this time of day. Come on, let's get on before we draw too much attention.” Nate felt Ray grab his hand and lead him to the small car. “We can sit up near the back and hunker down near those boxes.” Ray led him to where boxes and crates stood. There was a small wooden bench near the crates and once sitting they would be hidden from view.

 

Nate let out a quiet breath when he felt the Sky Rail start to move and risked peering out the window, watching as the car rose up on the rail and away from the Imperial Island that had been his home.

 

Ray’s arm came around his waist as he too turned to look at the vista. “Don’t worry Nate, we’re going to fix this. I promise.” 

 

Nate leaned into Ray’s touch. “I hope so, Ray.” Closing his eyes, he relaxed into Ray’s hold. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


+++

 

The Necropolis 

  
  
  


Mike’s brow wrinkled in concentration, trying to find his inner calm as Rudy had schooled him. “Inner calm, my ass,” Mike grunted. The other man sat across from Mike on one of the fallen pillars that dotted the Necropolis, thick tendrils of fog obscuring most discernible landmarks.

 

“Mike, Brother, concentrate. Look for the spark. It manifests deep inside,” Rudy’s voice floated through the myst.

 

Perspiration dotted Mike’s face as he scowled at Rudy muttering darkly, “Tell me to concentrate one more time,  _ Brother _ ,” Mike growled, “and I am going to drop you of the edge.” He huffed, growing frustrated with the attempts to summon the power he was not even certain he possessed. “I am not like you and Tim, Rudy. I’m no mage.” 

 

“You're right, Mike, you’re not, you're a Sun Dancer. The text I found hints that they draw their power from the environment. A mage like myself draws his power from the ether, or spirit world.” Rudy’s voice was soft and Mike was not really angry with the man, just frustrated.

 

Huffing an irritated sigh, Mike asked, “What's that all supposed to mean, Rudy?” 

 

“Mike, close your eyes.” Mike did as Rudy bade. “Now tell me how does it feels when you’re flying? How does it make you feel?” 

 

Mike thought. “Like the most wonderful feeling in the world,”  _ besides kissing Brad, _ Mike thought. “The wind feels like it’s carrying me. On the good days I could soar for hours, some days you have to tame the wind and bend it to your purpose and when you do it’s exhilarating.” Mike let his mind wander to his last flight, a few days before the Emperor had been killed. Taking a brief break, Mike had flown around the Imperial Sky Island. An impromptu game of tag between himself and a pair of Sun Eagles had occurred and Mike remembered the joy of swooping and fast turns chasing the two birds only to then be chased in return.

 

Mike could imagine he felt the wind under his wings and not for the first time cursed the ancient treaty that made it law that all newborn Aeri had their wings nubs removed. What would it be like to fly with his own wings and not those made for him by magic. 

 

Mike was so caught up in those thoughts he did not hear the sharp indrawn breath Rudy gave. Slowly bringing himself back to the now, he could hear Rudy’s voice below him.

 

Wait,  _ below? _ What the seven hells. Looking down, he was a good ten feet in the air, the steady beat of wings behind him keeping him airborne. Peering over his shoulder he caught sight of wings. His wings. Tawny and bronze stretching out behind him. Mike could feel the muscles in his chest work with each beat of his wings.

 

“Mike! How does it feel!” Rudy yelled up to the hovering man, a smile of pride on the large man’s face.

 

“Weird, but good. Part of me that was missing is back,” Mike called back and tentatively thrust his wings down, gaining height and speed. Growing more bold he started making mock dives at the battle mage who laughed loudly trying to catch the flying Mike. Both were caught up in a game of tag and did not notice the thump of the other Eagle Blood landing.

 

Brad had been ferrying thing back and forth from the Wives archives to the sky barge for Tim and had come to find out what his mate and the Battle mage had been up to.

 

“Where did he find a harness? He should still be resting, Rudy,” Brad growled, looking up at his mate. His thoughts conflicted, worried about his mate but enjoying watching the carefree way he flew/

 

“He is not wearing a harness, Brad. That is all him, Brother.” Rudy’s voice carried a faint edge of pride. He looked out of the corner of his eye to see Brad’s jaw drop and a look of disbelief cross his face.

 

“How?” 

 

“It's his magic. We were meditating and I asked him to tell me about flying. What if felt like. And next thing I know he is up there with those wings.” 

 

“Michael Wynn, you come down here right this minute.” Brad’s voice was calm but Mike heard the tone in Brad’s voice. 

 

“Brother, don’t startle him, he has this.“ Rudy looked serene, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

 

Brad felt more than saw Mike swoop down, the drafts from his large wings causing his hair to ruffle.

 

Mike’s wings beat a lazy rhythm as he hovered just in front of where Brad stood, a self satisfied smirk on his face.

 

“Michael.” The slight twitch in Brad’s brow was the only give away in his otherwise impassive expression.

 

“Bradley,” Mike grinned, slowly dropping to the ground, his wings folding neatly against his back, the air shimmering around them slightly. Brad reached out a hand to run his fingers down the feathers, feeling the strong flight muscles underneath.

 

The feathers coloured from dark brown to soft cream, each perfect in its shape. The wings themselves were strong and large, extending down to Mike’s ankles whilst they were folded back. 

 

Brad walked around Mike, noting where his shirt had torn as the wings had grown. His blue eyes intense in there focus, Mike fought the urge to duck his head.

 

“So these are part of you, then.” Brad’s voice was soft almost a whisper. Mike could feel Brad’s hand on his back, the heat of his palm burning through the thin shirt that covered his back. 

 

“Rudy, do you mind giving us a minute? I need to have a serious talk with my mate,” Brad spoke, the whole time not taking his eyes off of Mike.

 

“Sure, Brother. Got to check on Paps anyway. He gets himself into trouble when I’m not around.” Brad watched as Rudy walked off. Once assured they were alone, he spun back on Mike.

 

“Shirt. Off,” Brad barked.

 

Mike arched a brow. “Not sure this is really the time for it, Brad.” 

 

Brad made a frustrated grunt. “I want to see where the wings join, Mike. Humor me, will you?” 

 

Mike shook his head but did what he was told. Unbuttoning the linen shirt, he let it drop to the soft mossy floor, blushing slightly as Brad’s gaze grew more intense. Blue eyes narrowed, Brad began by running his hand between Mike’s pectorals, the ridge where he could feel the keel sternum all Aeri folk had, but in Mike’s case he could feel more muscle mass than before, running fingers along the sternum to Mike’s to his clavicle. Brad was intimately knowledgeable on Mike’s chest, a fading bite mark on Mike's left pec proof of that, but he could see the subtle differences now. Goosebumps rose on Mike’s skin where Brad’s touch had been. Brad flicked his eyes to his mate’s face and smiled.

 

“Your chest muscles have changed, strengthened to accommodate the weight.” Brad leaned in and kissed the shell of Mike's ear. “Turn around let me see those wings.”  

 

Brad took in a sharp breath as Mike turned his broad back and shoulders, easily supporting the weight of the magnificent wings. Running a hand down between Mike’s shoulder blades the soft downy feathers there tickled his palm. Mike made a pleased hum at the contact and Brad smirked to himself. “Like that, do you?” 

 

“The wings are sensitive, Brad, and you touching them like that feels good,” Mike blushed.

 

Stepping back Brad grinned, “Alright Mike, unfurl those bad boys. Let me get a proper look.” 

 

With a snap, Mike's wings extended, each measuring close to six feet in length. His wings resembled those of a Great Sun Eagle.  _ Figures, _ snorted Brad. He walked around his mate, a small smile playing on his lips. “They are extraordinary.” Mike ducked his head, trying to fight the urge to preen under Brad’s praise. 

 

“I feel whole now, Brad. It feels right. We have them stolen from us at birth, for what? To keep the Empire happy, to make us look normal? We’re not, Brad, we are the Aeri. We should have our wings and wear them with pride.” Mike's tone was quiet but Brad could hear the bitterness underneath.

 

Running a hand down his mate’s side Brad spoke quietly. “Could you do this to me?” 

 

Mike hummed softly. “I don't know, I didn't even know I could do this. I did not actually even think about it, I just thought about flying not about growing wings.”  

 

Brad sighed, “No, you’re right. I was just thinking I guess, not to have to rely on these things,” Brad poked at the straps of his flying harness, “would be pretty nice.”

 

“Brad, do you trust me?” Mike asked as he stepped into Brad's space.

 

“Do you even have to ask, Mike? You know the answer.” 

 

Mike placed his hand on the clasp of Brad's harness. “Take this thing off, then do as I say.”

 

Brad nodded, not sure what Mike was up to. “Close your eyes, Brad, can you feel our bond?” 

 

Brad could. It blazed bright and warm in his chest, he could feel Mike's love and pride in him and also the thrum of power just sitting waiting to be released.

 

“Remember the night of our mating ceremony.” Brad's mind picked a particular image which caught Mike off guard and caused him to laugh loudly. “Not that part asshole, when we flew above the cloud line.”

 

Brad hummed, his mind already going back to that night. They flew higher than they ever had, challenging each other and catching thermals till they reached the upper layer of clouds, the floating land masses of  Charybdis hidden by the blanket of cloud. It had been peaceful and calm, just him and Mike soaring through the night sky. The two moons had been full that night and the world had been bathed in their glow. 

 

Through the bond he felt Mike's pulse spike and a warm surge of love and magic surge through him. His eyes flew open as he gasped at the intensity of it. Mike was looking at him, his amber eyes now glowing softly, the strain of the magic flowing through him causing slight wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

 

It dawned on Brad they were no longer on the ground and, looking down, he could see the Necropolis floating below. Mike's wings were beating a steady cadence, his hands gently grasping Brad's. 

 

“Mike, why are we up here?” Brad's hands tightened on Mike's. Looking down he could see the Osiris moored to the creaky old dock and make out figures walking from the archives to the boat.

 

“You’re the one who brought us up here.” A hint of mirth coloured Mike's lazy drawl.

 

Narrowing his eyes, Brad dared to peer over his shoulder, nearly dropping to the earth below at the sight behind him.

 

Extending from his back were two massive wings, slightly larger than Mike's. The feathers were a mix of brilliant whites and pale greys, and a band of bright blue feathers ran across the base.

 

“Well, they are something else. The royal blue is a nice touch.” Mike had loosened his grip on Brad's hands, trusting that Brad would not fall.

 

Brad huffed an annoyed sound, rolling his eyes. “You made them, was not my choice.”

 

Mike let his wings pull him a bit further apart from Brad, watching as Brad's wings lazily beat the air, confident and strong, as if Brad would be anything less.

 

“Actually, Colbert, I think it’s more what your wings would have looked like if they had been allowed to grow when we were born, It’s not my doing that yours are all ‘hey, look at me’ loud and proud like that.” Mike quickly dodged a playful punch from Brad.

 

“Explain to me why I mated you again,” Brad sighed in a put upon voice, but he could not hide his smile.

 

“Not sure, your mother keeps asking the same question though.” Mike took off flying, motioning for Brad to follow.

 

Brad felt a childish glee at speeding past Mike, his wings pushing through the air with little effort and catching Mike with ease. They played games of tag circling around the Necropolis, Brad at one point catching Mike and sloppily kissing him before shooting off again. 

 

To be flying under his own power, to have real wings, this was the greatest gift he had ever been given and that is was Mike who gave him it to him. After a while, Mike indicated they should land and they both settled back on the mossy ground of the Necropolis. Brad still could not wipe the grin from his face. Gathering Mike in his arms he chided himself for being so overwhelmed but Mike just hummed soothing words and press soft kisses to the side of his head.

 

Pulling apart Brad was struck by a thought. “These things are going to stand out, if we’re not already targets of the Empire’s ire these will surely bring down its full wrath.”

 

Mike looked thoughtful, the corners of his eyes creasing. “I been thinking about that. I remember stories my Granny told about, how our some of the Aeri could hide their wings from sight. Some sort of magic, I guess. Let’s head back to the boat, I think I need to pick Rudy and Tim’s brains for this.” 

 

“Do you think Rudy has already let slip about this?”

 

“Nah, think he will want to see the looks of surprise on the guys’ faces, the man has a childish love for surprises and surprising others.

 

Starting down the rocky path to the boat, Brad reached out and grabbed Mike's hand. “I know I don’t say this enough but I love you, even at your most smug and annoying. I can't explain how much having these means.“ Brad gently flapped his wings and looked away, embarrassed by the sentimentality he was expressing.

 

“Brad, the day I threw you out of that window I knew you were it for me, even back then. At your most insufferable, I knew I was not going to stop loving you, and as for the wings, damn it man you saved my life more times than I can count and giving you back what was stolen from us can’t even repay half of that debt.”

 

Brad nodded curtly, not willing to let Mike see just how much this gift had affected him. “Come on, let’s head back to the boat.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


+++

 

The Osiris

  
  


Sitting on the bow of the Osiris, legs dangling above the abyss, Walt sat carefree, his hands busy working on a lump of blackwood, his hands nimble and quick handling the knife carving the stylized form of a snakes head, wood shavings spilled down from his lap into the void below. 

 

He wanted the carving to look just right. It was going to be a gift for Tim, a new staff head. He had found two emeralds at the markets when he and Tim had gone to the Imperial City and had bought them on a whim. Watching the serpent's head take form he had come to the conclusion they would look perfect as eyes.

 

They were both still stuck in the holding pattern of awkward flirting and Walt would like it to progress to the less awkward kissing phase, but he realised he was going to have to be patient with the good mage.

 

Walt smiled when he thought about Tim’s shy smile. Everyone tended to fear the magister and feared earning a biting remark or one of his patented scowls. Walt, from the day he had joined the brothers, had felt none of that. In fact, he had been drawn to him. Tim did not act afraid of him as many others did when they discovered his vocation and was always happy to share stories of his studies and life, even when Walt would remain quiet. He never pushed Walt to open up about his life spent in service to the Sisters of the Night, and because of that Walt had started to tell him about his life. Not all of it and not things that were still painful for him to remember, but one day he felt he would tell Tim all of it.

 

A loud raucous cawing drew Walt from his thoughts. Circling above his head, an unkindness of ravens had appeared, their purple-black plumage denoting their allegiance to the Guild of Assassins. A large female dropped to perch alongside Walt, a large purple splotch on her head marking her as Evan Wright’s raven, Molly. “Hey girl, what has you flying this far afield?” Walt reached out a hand and Molly daintily stepped onto it. Her black eyes focusing on him, she cawed softly and Walt noticed the message tube attached to her leg. It had to be important for Evan to send his favourite raven this far, and to be accompanied by a whole unkindness of her sisters.

 

The rest of the ravens had settled about on the riggings, resting from what must have been a grueling flight. Walt would find some grain for them once he had read the message. 

 

_ Schwetje has made his move. Prince and Ray captured. Unsure of their whereabouts, Schwetje claiming Ray killed Prince in an Aeri / Brotherhood plot. City in uproar, Schwetje’s personal guard have taken control. Guard Captain Patterson and Prince’s pages captured. Will send word when I find out more. _

 

This was bad. This was very bad. The rest of the brotherhood needed to know right away. Walt bolted to where the Brothers’ great rams horn hung and blew a blast as long and loud as he could, hoping they would all hear and gather at the ship.

 

Tim was the first to arrive, panting and out of breath. He saw the stricken look on Walt’s face and ran to him. Walt held out the message and thumped down heavily to sit on the deck.

 

Scanning the message, Tim’s face set into a hard scowl. He sat down beside the young assassin and, pulling him close, said, “We are going to find them Walt. I promise.”  


	6. Old Town Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old Town was shrouded in a thick layer of fog by the time the railcar had descended, the clanking thump announcing to its only occupants its arrival. Nate looked out the window at the dark buildings and gloomy narrow streets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Gasp* and update ..hope you all enjoy I had fun with this and the next chapter. As always my eternal love and gratitude to @Celtic-Pixie for being the bestest Beta in the world <3

Old Town was shrouded in a thick layer of fog by the time the railcar had descended, the clanking thump announcing to its only occupants its arrival. Nate looked out the window at the dark buildings and gloomy narrow streets. He had never been down to the lower landmasses, Old Town was somewhere he only read about in his father’s reports and notes.

 

“Ray, wake up where here,” he said, giving the sleeping engineer a gentle shove. Ray had fallen asleep not long after the railcar had left the Imperial Island, his body giving into the fatigue and his head dropping onto Nate’s shoulder as he slept the hour it took to get to Old Town. 

 

Nate had been too nervous about capture to sleep, keeping a careful watch on the skies around them as they travelled, and keeping a check on Ray. Nate worried that the injuries that Ray had taken needed proper medical attention, but he had no idea if they would be able to find a healer once they had arrived.

 

Ray woke, blinking slowly. Lifting his head from Nate’s shoulder he noted the wet spot on the prince’s shoulder. “ Eww, dude, I was drooling on you, sorry.” He ineffectually tried to rub the damp spot away.

 

“Ray, that is the least offensive thing that has happened to me today.” Letting a sigh out, Nate stood and pulled Ray up with him.

 

It was raining. A soft, silvery drizzle sifted down out of the early evening sky. It wreathed around the gaslights, making them hiss and splutter.

 

Nate pulled Ray closer to him, hoping to afford the smaller man some warmth, and keep him going until they could find a place to lay low.

 

Ray led them down the narrow slick streets and Nate felt more and more lost with every twist and turn they took, the light of the moons cut off by the densely crowded buildings.

 

“How much further, Ray?” Nate spoke quietly into the top of Ray’s head. Ray tilted his eyes up to meet Nate’s - they were dull with pain - and he was blinking slowly.

 

“The next building on the left, go down the alley to the first door.”

 

At Ray’s instruction, they turned at the next building. The alley was dark and smelled of mould and old food, but at least it kept them out of sight. Coming up to a door on the right, Ray moved from Nate’s grip and Nate watched as Ray felt along the door’s lintel, standing on his toes to reach. Nate had just reached out to offer help when Ray grunted in triumph. “Knew I hid it up here.” 

 

Pulling down an old iron key, Ray opened the door and entered the residence. Once the door closed the room was dark until the strike of a flint and the splutter of a gas lamp brought the room to light. It was a small sitting room come kitchen, a small fireplace sat against one wall with two old armchairs positioned in front. To the other side of the room, a large wood oven sat, and in the middle, a solid timber table sat, old but, by the condition, much loved and cared for. Ray shuffled around lighting lamps and searching through cupboards, pulling out what looked like a tin of coffee and another tin with unknown contents. “Whose place is this, Ray?” Nate asked, noting that even though the place was small, it had a well cared for look, the floors free of dust and everything neatly away. 

 

“Um, well, mine. Well, it was my mom’s but it became mine after, ya know. Only the Brothers know about this place so it’s safe for now, give us somewhere to rest up and all that.”

 

Walking over to the fireplace, Nate decided to try and make himself helpful. Summoning a small flame in his palm he set the neatly stacked tinder alight, slowly feeding larger pieces of wood to the flame. When he was finished, Nate turned and watched Ray fumble with the flint trying to set the wood oven going. “Here let me, you’re no use with a broken hand,” he said gently, scooting Ray out of the way and onto a chair before setting about getting the oven going and placing the large kettle on top.

 

“There are cookies in the tin. Old Ms. Watchup tends to make them for me when I’m here,” Ray spoke from his spot on the chair. Nate winced when he looked over to see Ray's hand resting in his lap. It needed to be cleaned and bound up and Nate knew enough of healing magic to at least make sure the bone would set thanks to Rudy but it was going to hurt when he did it.

 

Pouring the hot water into the coffee pot he let it stand for a moment before pouring a cup for himself and Ray. “Do you have a bowl about, need to clean our wounds. The trip through the sewer can’t have done them any good.“ Ray pointed towards a small oak dresser. 

 

“In there, and there are some bandages in the top cupboard. Doc sent me packed with a whole mess of shit, does not trust me to not injure myself,“ Ray said with a small but wry smile. 

 

Nate placed the steaming mug in front of Ray and went to get the things they needed out of the cupboard. He poured steaming water from the kettle into a large earthen bowl and sprinkled the antiseptic herbs that were in the pouch Ray had shown him, letting the herbs steep.

 

“Do you have any spare shirts hiding about the place Ray? Think these things are only good for the fire,” Nate said as he fingered the ruined finery.

 

“Through there in the bedroom is a chest with spare clothes. The guys are always leaving shit here, something should fit you.” Ray blushed when he saw Nate remove his shirt, baring his naked torso. Even covered in bruises and cuts, Nate's body was still perfect in Ray's eyes.

 

Nate eyed Ray. “You’re going to need a hand getting out of that shirt, go sit by the fire and I'll bring everything over there.” 

 

Nate went to the small bedroom, noting again its tidy, orderly appearance. A dark dresser contained shirts, and further investigation found warm socks and woollen trousers to replace the torn and ragged ones both he and Ray wore. On top of the dresser were a few sepia pictures taken with an image box. One was of a dark-haired woman wearing a leather apron and bent over a work table, the small quirky smile she had strongly reminiscent of Ray's, the next photo showed a young Ray working at the same worktable, a pleased and cheeky grin on his face.

 

Walking back out he saw Ray curled up in one of the large armchairs, eyes closed. He had fallen asleep while waiting for Nate and he was sorely tempted to let the other man rest but knew the sooner he tended to their injuries the better. Looking at the dirty state of both of them, Nate realised that getting clean was a priority. He spied the large copper bathtub in the corner and, huffing with exertion, dragged it in front of the fire and set to pouring bucket full of water into the tub only stopping once it was full, he found a soft cloth and soap and placed them by the tub. 

 

Nate dipped his hand into the water and channels a flow of magic to heat it, once satisfied with the temperature he went over to wake Ray

 

“Hey Ray, how about we get this muck of us and you bandaged up, then we can sleep” Nate managed to get Ray standing up Stifling a laugh when Ray responded with a sleepy : Mkay” into Nate's shoulder.

 

With little finesse Nate managed to strip Ray down, Nate looked at the large copper Tub and sighed stripping down himself he got into the warm water and guided Ray in who sighed as the warm water covered him. Nate sat against the back of the tub with Ray positioned between his legs, at another time when both were not beaten and bloody, Nate would have blushed at the intimacy of the situation, the close proximity of Ray’s naked body instead brought about feelings of deep respect and care for the man. The evidence of the beating he had taken to protect Nate stark on his skin, 

 

Lathering the soap in his hands Nate began to wash Ray's dark hair, Ray sighed and made soft sounds as Nate's fingers combed through the dirty strands, and whimpered when he massaged a particular sore spot. Ray relaxed further into Nate's touch, he let Nate move him while he washed away the dirt and blood.

 

When Nate was certain he had them both clean he got out of the tub bring Ray with him, drying  them both off he dressed them both in the sleep pants and shirts he found.He gathered the steaming bowl of herbal wash from where he had left it to steep, dipping a soft cloth in he then set about cleaning the wounds on Ray and himself, the cut on Ray's head was the deepest and was the one Nate feared would infect so he spent time cleaning the wound, Ray was stoic the only sign of discomfort was a slight tightening around his eyes. 

  
  


Wounds dressed and clean Nate prepared to work on Ray's broken hand “Ray I am going to try and mend the breaks, the magic should be able to heal the bone but it's going to hurt” Nate ran a soothing hand down Ray's arm

 

“Nate I trust you, and I can take the pain” Ray winced as Nate placed both his hands over Ray's broken one.

 

Nate began to let the magic flow out of him and into Ray's broken hand, he let his magic connect him to Ray, feeling the uptick of Ray's heart as the bones began to knit, Looking up to Ray he found the other man looking at him with an unfathomable expression.

 

“Is the pain too much?” Nate worried ran a hand up Ray's arm resting it on one of Ray's slim shoulders 

 

Ray's heart gave a loud thump that Nate felt through the magic “No not too much” Ray licked his lips nervously his brown eyes darting away from Nate's gaze. Nate reached up and curled the fingers of his hand around Ray's slim Neck 

 

“You put your life at risk for me, you let them beat you, you have let yourself be hurt to protect me Ray “

 

Ray's brown eyes blinked slowly a nervous flick of tongue against his lips “I would do it every time Nate, I would take a blow or even death as long as it kept you safe” 

 

Nate had to know, he had to be sure that this was more than some loyalty because he was the prince “Why Ray” 

 

Ray turned his head away “Because I “ he stopped and turning he fixed Nate with a sorrowful look “Because I love you, since the first time I laid eyes on you  I will never in any lifetime be worthy of you” Ray twisted his head away trying to avoid Nate's gaze but Nate refused to let him, grabbing his chin he firmly guided his face back to look at him

 

“You stupid brave frustrating man” Nate sighed 

 

Ray wiped a hand under his nose letting out a shaky laugh “You just used a few descriptives for me there“ 

 

Nate lent in pressing his head against Ray’s “kind handsome, brave, strong, loud, “ each word whispered as Nate pressed kisses about Ray's’ face 

 

“But I am a low ranked engineer from the wrong part of the Empire, I have no wealth or family connections and i belong to an outlawed band  of misfits whom I call brothers” Ray whispered as Nate continued to press kisses to his face and head,

 

Cupping Ray's chin in his hand Nate gave Ray a long look “And I am a Prince without a throne, my wealth and titles gone, I am hunted by the men who once claimed to serve me, and I can bring only danger with me “ 

 

A wry smirk crossed Ray's face “Seems to me then we were fated to be together then” 

 

Instead of answering Nate kissed Ray leaving no doubts that he shared the same affection the other man felt, 

 

Neither man had to energy than to lean against the other kissing softly, until Ray yawned, laughing Nate lead Ray through to the small bedroom, pulling back blankets he motioned for Ray to get under the covers, Returning to the front room he locked and barred the door, setting a small ward upon it to wake him if anyone tried gaining entry.

 

Slipping under the covers he pulled Ray against him, brushing his lips through Ray's sable hair, a hand resting lightly on Ray's chest feeling the steady beat of his heart.  Ray turned so he had his face pressed to Nate's throat “so my declaration of undying love did not freak you out then” Nate shivered at the feeling of Ray's soft exhales against his skin. Tilting Ray's head up with his hand he ghosted his lips across Ray's “No, never “ he deepened the kiss just enough to elicit a happy moan from Ray. Nate maneuvered their bodies so Ray's hurt hand was not squashed between them, and continued to kiss Ray, neither was in a fit state for energetic lovemaking and Ray seemed happy and content with the slow roll of hips against each other and the sensual slide of lips.

 

Ray let out the sweetest of sounds when his clothed erection rubbed against Nate's equally interested counterpart, letting his hand slowly drift down Ray's torso he let his fingers gently slip under Ray's shirt ghosting over the fine hairs that trailed down Ray's belly toying with the ties of Ray's pants he looked up into his brown eyes seeking consent before he continued. F

 

Ray's brown eyes were hooded, lips wet and parted he gasped as Nate's fingers kept their holding pattern “Your Royal hotness if you don't undo my pants soon “ the rest of what Ray was about to say was lost in a throaty groan as Nate's hand slipped down Ray’s pants and wrapped around  his erection. 

 

Ray's hips moved slowly as Nate slowly stroked him “Nate I need” Ray's words became muffled into Nate's neck, Nate removed his hand for a moment eliciting another whine from Ray which he hushed with a kiss, undoing the ties to his pants he freed his own erection, Rolling them over Nate slotted there hips together, the shallow slide of the cock brushing against one another enough to have Ray gasping again.

 

Nate brought his hand down to encase them both stroking slowly, his breath coming in short pants, mouthing Ray's exposed neck worrying a bruise onto the exposed flesh. It did not take long for them both to reach the orgasm the were both straining for, Ray with a guttural groan going limp under Nate his uninjured hand stroking Nate's short hair murmuring words of encouragement and love had Nate coming moments later.

 

Kissing Ray Nate got out of bed and found a cloth to wipe them down with, throwing the cloth to one side he pulled Ray back against him, the other man snuggling deeper against Nate's chest his breath already slowing and eyes closed Slowly Nate let exhaustion take him and drifted into a deep dreamless sleep.

  
  
  
  
  
  


000

 

The men had gathered below decks after the news the raven had brought.

 

“Old Town” Walt spoke up causing everyone in the gally to look at him, “That is where Ray will head, he has his bolt  hole and he knows how to hide, and Old Town is crowded enough for them to blend in” 

 

Brad nodded “he’s right that is where Ray would head, but that still puts nearly 500 leagues between us and them a four-day trip even if the winds are with us” 

 

Mike made a questioning sound from the galley doorway “You know we could cut that time down in half” 

 

Brad glared over at his mate “Are you suggesting going through the Pillars” 

 

Mike shrugged his wings drooping under Brads hard glare “Just a suggestion, you know it would get us their faster” 

 

“You forget what happened last time, do the words Chimera ring a bell?” Brad stood tall the feathers on his wings fluffing in agitation

 

“Yeah well that was just the two of us, this time we got the boys, you think a Chimera stands a chance against two mages and a ship full of fighters “ Mike stepped closer smiling slightly he dropped his voice to a low growl “Common Brad you know you want a little payback for last time”

 

“Hmm they did ambush us” Brad thought allowed 

 

“We would be prepared this time” Mike pressed, a small sure smile touching his lips 

 

“I’ve never seen a Chimera before this could be exciting, “ Walt piped up from where he sat alongside Tim, flushing slightly when he saw the look Tim gave him.

 

“Exciting Walt, are you mad? those things are half a ton of claws and pissed of attitude and two heads that want nothing more than to crunch bones and rend flesh” Tim growled “They are not exciting, terrifying yes exciting no” 

 

Tim glared over at Mike and Brad “Tell me you two are not actually considering this idea” 

 

Brad grinned a feral smile “Well Mike has a point it will cut down travel time” 

 

Pappy stood with a resigned sigh and looked over at the gathered group “Better go make sure those harpoons are sharp, think they are going to be needed” most of them knowing the decision had already been made.

 

Pappy left with Rudy following close behind, Brad sighed they were going to do this, there was no fighting it and he had to admit a small shiver of anticipation at the thought of challenging the Chimera, he owed them, he and Mike both still bore the scars of their last tangle with the Skylands most formidable predator, 

 

When Brad looked up from his thoughts he noticed most of the men had left the galley intent of preparing for the fight to come, Looking towards the large rear window he saw Poke and Gina embracing and speaking softly 

  
  


“I am going to stay here with the Wives Antonio, I will better serve buy reading and working to find out about this dark one and what he wants,” Gina spoke softly her voice muffled by Pokes embrace 

 

“This will be over soon, then we can take the girls and find somewhere quiet away from this madness” Poke inhaled deeply into Gina's long dark hair, memorising her smell and the feel of her in his arms 

 

Gina pulled away from Poke kissing him quickly then walking towards Brad, “You look after him” she poked him with a finger then reached up and kissed his cheek “And look after yourselves too” 

 

With that, she left the galley the tinkle of the bells on her skirt drifting behind her.

 

“I am fairly certain that woman could take on two Chimeras herself and win, she should have lead the armies of the Emperor” Brad chuckled at the proud look on Pokes face 

 

“So I take it you agree with this crazy scheme then Iceman?” Poke levelling a resigned look at Brad.

 

“You don’t agree” Brad arched a Brow taking in Pokes pinched expression

 

“You know I will back you, just taking on Chimeras” Poke let out a harsh breath following Brad through to the small storeroom that held the brothers' weapons, Brads wings barely fitting through the small door.

  
  
  


“If it saves us two days Poke then its worth it” Brad reached up and grabbed his great sword from where it hung next to Mike's holding it he checked the veridium blade for nicks and damage hefting it, the solid weight feeling comfortable in his hands, Mikes had a shorter blade and shield both in Veridium both with the ornate eagle motif and Aerie Runes engraved, they had been  mating gift from the Emperor to the pair.

 

Brad grabbed down Mikes as well, his blade smaller and lighter but no less deadly 

 

“Your looking forward to a fight” Pokes accused, 

 

Brad looked down the blade smiling slightly, “I am” there was not enough room in the small cramped compartment for Brad to move about comfortably so he moved onto the upper deck Poke following doggedly behind.

 

“You know brother I am going to follow you into this, just Chimeras damn Homes “ Poke glared up at the Mainsail.

 

Brad looked down “It's going to be good practice for what's ahead” Brad laid the weapons he had brought up against the rail of the ship 

 

“We have spent the last 18 months fighting petty criminals and hiding from the royal guard, were not prepared for the fight to come” 

 

“And fighting Winged hate-filled assholes is how we are going to prepare” Poke sighed in resignation

 

Brads eyes landed on Walt where he sat tending to Molly the scribes raven, she was sitting with Ally the ships cat, preening and pecking at the cats honey coloured  fur, the cat sprawled on the deck not caring.

 

“Walt!” Brad barked a little louder than he meant 

 

“Brad,” Walt looked up from tending to Molly's wings, reaching over to scratch Ally’s chin absently

 

“Do you think Molly is up to a flight” 

 

“You want to try to get a message to Ray?” Walt looked curious,  Molly sensing she was being discussed cawed loudly and hopped her way up onto Walts' shoulder

 

“That is the plan yes”

 

“Hmm once were through the Pillars I'll send her, she’s not quite ready for such a long flight but she will make it there before we do,”Walt reached up and stroked the Raven “Won't you girl” Molly cawed and grumbled happily as Walt stroked her

 

Looking back to Brad Walt smiled “She will get there, I'll get her to fly straight to a little dove I have in Old Town she will find Ray and the Prince”

 

Brad arched a finely sculpted brow “Can this little Dove be trusted” 

 

Walt Beamed “Jen has impeccable talents and is loyal to the Sisters of the night and more importantly to me” 

 

Brad nodded down at the smiling assassin “All right then I trust your judgement in this” 

 

Brad looked to the gathered men on the deck raising his voice he spoke “All right men, One of our own is in danger and the true ruler of this realm is with him, We have sat back and watched this travesty long enough, it's time to fight back and to help our Prince” 

 

The gathered brothers gave a loud cheer “ We're going to find this Necromancer and we're going to make him pay, and if it means dragging Schwetje and Griego down to the seven hells then we’re going to enjoy the trip” 

 

“Hoorah” the combined voices of the brothers chanted then broke off to start preparing to set sail.

 

The Octavia lurched as Jacks went about casting off from the Necropolis docks as she slowly pulled away   Tim stood at the wheel guiding the Octavia out into the airstreams. The engines slowly came to lift huffing steam and slowly drawing the Octavia higher into the sky., the Main Sails snapped as the air currents grabbed them.

 

Mike stood at the Forecastle Deck. looking out at the clouds his wingtips fluttering slightly in the breeze 

 

Coming up behind Mike Brad looked over his mate surreptitiously, there was still the signs of his imprisonment, he was still thinner than Brad would have liked, and the fresh scars that were hidden under the cotton shirt he wore were still fresh a painful reminder of what Mike had been through.

 

Brad had to fight with the urge to wrap Mike up and hide him away, Mike was a soldier and Brad knew he could fight with the best of them but it still did not diminish the possessive protective side of Brad's nature. The winds ruffled his own wings the gift his Mate had bestowed on him, it made Brad proud his Mate was something this world had not seen in centuries, yet at the end of the day he was still Mike, the stubborn loyal man he had fallen for.

 

So caught up in his own thoughts he had not notice Mike turn and gaze back at him, glancing over to where their swords lay Mike arched a brow in question

 

“Going to take us the better part of a day to reach the Pillars,” Brad said by way of explanation

 

“And ?” Mike spoke as he walked towards him

 

“I thought we could get reacquainted with our swords, and it's been a while since we spared” Brad nodded towards where their weapons lay. Mike reached down and grazing his hand along the hilt of his longsword, Brad watch those strong blunt fingers trace the engraved Aerie Runes reverently, hefting the blade Mike twisted his wrist making the blade spin, moving with a fluid grace the Aerie was known for, Mike spun working the forms his blade glinting green when the pale light of the sun caught it . 

 

“Show off” Brad reached for his own blade, timing it to cross with Mikes as he brought it up for a strike. Brad had the longer reach but Mike had the strength, they spared both grinning like two-year-olds unaware of the audience that had gathered.

 

Brads longer reach and height gave him an advantage using it he parried and thrust backing Mike up against the Mainsail., he caught the slight dip of Mikes left shoulder and was ready to block when Mike moved, a feint to the left and a well-timed block he hooked Mikes blade and sent it catering to the deck.

 

Looking up from under honey lashes Mike smiled “You think you’ve won” 

 

Brad smiled supremely confident “Your disarmed and at my mercy, though I am surprised” 

 

“Surprised at what you have always been the better swordsman, I’ll never begrudge you that“ Mike answered their bodies now flush against the rigging 

 

“You forgot the one trick you know have up your sleeve “ 

 

Mike looked at Brad confused, Brad wiggled his fingers in an exaggerated motion “Maaggic” he drew the word out Mikes' eyes went wide and suddenly he laughed a deep rich sound “You know I forgot about that” 

 

Brad let out a sigh and poked Mike firmly in the chest “Well-beloved Mate when we are neck deep in Chimeras please by the seven don't forget” 

 

“I’ll try not to” Mike murmured has Brad felt the faint whispers of Magic in the back of his skull a ghostly touch of air caressing his back and then an unexpected pinch on his behind. 

 

“Now you use it” Brad snorted in disbelief, Mike shrugged laughing at the exasperated look Brad gave him 

 

Brad sighed lines of worry crossing his brow, he knew in his heart they should be able to fight through the pillars but he did not like going into this blind. Looking over at Mike his gaze kept travelling to Mikes wings, huffing in pleasure when a thought came to him

 

“You think we could outfly this bucket of bolts” Brad looked at the sky as he spoke judging the wind currents 

 

“Without breaking a sweat, why what are you thinking” 

 

“We could make it to the pillars, scout around and back to the Octavia before they have even gotten halfway,” the more Brad thought on it the more this plan could work Brad continued to speak, “We could find the best way through and get a better idea of the numbers were facing, maybe even find a quicker route through the pass”  Mike tilted his head in a way Brad knew, he was judging the plans merit and strength

 

Mike nodded “I think you're right, let's do it” 

  
  


As they finished getting ready to depart Rudy walked up carrying a staff with a azure gem in its headstock, at Mikes questioning look Rudy spoke “Found the headstock and gem in the archives and the the wood for the staff, the wives say the Headstaff belonged to  Azure Evening Flame the last know Sun Dancer “ Rudy passed Mike the staff he ran his hands along the smooth pale wood, it seemed to vibrate slightly at his touch the wood feeling warm and smooth.

 

This is Achon wood, there has not been any crafted in my lifetime, just this amount alone could buy you  a palace “ Mike spoke in hushed awe the wood coming from a tree the Aerie held as sacred and only one grove was left standing and that was in the imperial reserve

 

“Pappy carved the staff we thought it was fitting for you to have it, the gem will help act as a foci for your power” Rudy smiled looking at the staff with pride.

 

“This is, I don’t really know what to say” Mike murmured as he moved the staff  the blade on the end glinted 

 

“The Blade is Blood gold, in a fight, you can at least stab them with it “ Rudy smiled pleased with Mikes reaction to the staff “When we have time we can work on staff work, more times than want my staff has saved my skin” 

 

Ruy helped Mike fit the Staff to the fashioned quick release straps between his wings, in an emergency Mike would be able to reach for it and have it in hand quickly. 

 

Brad came up from the lower deck his sword already buckled to his hip, two small shoulder packs in hand, he handed one to Mike then looked at the gathered faces, “Mike and I will scout ahead, we can be in and out of the Pillars before you can get there, if we're not back before you reach the Statue of the Father wait for us” he tone left no room for argument,

 

The others watched in awe as the two Aerie took flight watching until they were specks in the distance, Poke turned to the gathered faces and scowled “Did any of you bother to ask How the fuck they have real wings ?”

 

Rudy let out a deep chuckle slinging an arm over Pokes shoulder “Come on brother I’ll explain it to you”.

  
  
  



	7. Pillars of Creation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We're going to end up doing something terribly stupid aren't we” Brad accused Mike softly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks around flings chapter up and runs away

The bleak rocky crags echoed with the sound of the wind, and the more ominous sound of snarls and growls, below on a rocky shelf two Chimera were fighting over the injured body of a juvenile sky behemoth, its family still circling high above calling down with its mournful sound.

 

The sounds of the distressed calf had caught Mikes attention and they had ended up here laying on the cliff above, Brad had suspicions that his soft-hearted mate was planning something foolish.

 

“We're going to end up doing something terribly stupid aren't we” Brad accused Mike softly

 

“Sky shepherds that is what they used to call our people in the old days Brad, we looked after those who lived in this realm” Mike shoulders were set in firm resolve

 

“I know but this “ Pointing down to where the two Chimera were hissing and slashing at the poor calf “This is the natural world Predators eat those weaker”  

 

“No Brad they are toying with it just like Ally cat does when she catches a mouse on Octavia, this is just cruel” the cold anger in Mikes' voice had Brad taken aback

 

Mike was never one given to overt sentimentality and Brad was taken off guard by how much the cloud Whale calves plight was affecting his Mate, he felt the flow of anger in his bond with Mike and the feelings of protectiveness that came off him in waves, the mating bond between them had always been open and they both quietly relished the ability to sense the other through the spirit bond, but Brad had noticed in the last few days something had been worrying Mike, something other than their current state of affairs, when Brad asked Mike had brushed it off telling him it was nothing.

 

Sighing Brad crawled back from the cliff edge the firm look on Mikes face telling him that yes they were going to take on the two Chimera bellow, all for the sake of a wounded sky calf, as if sensing Brads thoughts the wounded calf let out a mournful sound, its cries echoing in the rocky gully.

 

“Shit” Brad growled to himself as he watched Mike untethered his staff and  winked at him 

 

“Say your not looking forward to a little fight Brad” Mike spoke his voice a teasing drawl, Brad fixed Mike with a flat look 

 

“I see me receiving many many blow jobs in my future  in thanks for my heroic skills” 

 

The snort Mike made caused brad to chuckle “You know we haven't tried fooling around since we got these” Mike pointed a thumb back to his wings 

 

Brad shook his head driving away those visions “You ready for this” Brad hefted his sword the thrill of the coming fight starting to take hold, 

Mike’s eyes glowed a soft golden signalling he was tapping his power “Let's kick some Chimera ass” 

 

The Chimeras roared in shock when suddenly in their midst two Aerie appeared, Brad upon landing drew his   as a barbed tail swung his way going straight into Ochs form his blade stopped the descending tail as it came crashing down with lethal intent , Brad moved his blade in  an arching cut slicing up into the tough flesh of the Chimeras Tail both heads roaring in pain. 

 

Snapping teeth grazed the air inches from Brads face, Brad danced back his long legs moving gracefully in the dance of death, darting back he brought his sword down , the Green steel flashing emerald fire in the sun, the blade slicing along the cheek of one of the heads , hissing black blood dripped down onto the rocky floor, 

 

“Keep that Stuff of you, Brad, its poison” Mike yelled from where he was hurling balls of fire while standing guard in front of the fallen sky calf his staff spinning above his head before he brought it down reining balls of flame onto the second Chimera

 

“I gathered that by the way it hissed on my blade “Brad shot back “Watch your flank” Brad yelled as the second Chimera had started to circle round Mike 

 

Mike's shoulders bunched as he lifted and spun his staff bringing the heavy headstock cracking down on the second Chimera, one head was hanging its eyes gassy and dull the second heads eyes still burned with fury at the Wings folks intervention.

 

Brad laughed as he spun away from a deadly claw Bringing the flat of his blade down sharply between the second heads eyes, 

 

“Brad stop playing and kill the fucking thing” Mike yelled as he dodged a poison-tipped tail

 

“Spoilsport” Brad brought his blade down low and charged the Chimera, as the two-headed beast went to bite down Brad dropped and slid sweeping his blade up cleanly taking the first head off and nearly severing the second ,  The beast dropped in an Inglourious heap Brad quickly stepping away from the pooling blood, Mike too it seemed had come out of the fight victorious the second Chimera laying in a smoking pile its bones turning to ash, Mikes eyes dulling from their glowing gold back to there normal warm amber, 

 

“think I am getting a hang of this magic shit, that last fireball may have been a little stronger than intended “ Mike surveyed the carnage then quickly walked over to the fallen Cloud Calf,

 

The giant Calf flopped and strained on the rocky floor its large tail making aimless sweeps a large intelligent brown eye regarded Mike with suspicion unsure what these strange winged creatures wanted from him.

 

The Calf's pod circled above the loud raucous calls that had echoed during the skirmish now more soft comforting calls 

“Hey little one” Mike crooned softly his hand gently touching the Iridescent blue skin of the calf running his hands down its long body he came to its leathery wings 

 

“I am just going to check there are no rips in your wings little one, then we are going to get you back to your family “ Mike worked his way down each wing softly talking while he checked the Calf making soft sounds in return. 

 

Brad watched with pride as his mate worked, he may have thought it was a fool's errand, to begin with, but like Mike, he could not have stood back and watched the young defenceless calf be torn apart by the  

 

“I think we can lift her, help her get up to her pod, they can take it from there” Mike assessed looking over at Brad for confirmation, Brad looked at the calf “if we use those spider silk ropes Ray made as a sling that would make the job easier” 

 

“You got them on you” Mike looked up from where he was rubbing the calf's head

 

Brad snorted derisively, arms crossed over his chest  “Of course” 

 

They made short work of fashioning the ropes into a sling, the spider silk more than strong enough to take the calf's weight, standing either side of the calf ropes in hand the two launched up towards the circling pod the calls become more excited the closer they got.

  
  


The largest Sky Behemoth Brad had ever seen flew towards him, at least three times the Size of a Royal Galley his wings could easily cover the Octavia alone, it made soft crooning cries which the calf responded to trying to flap its tired wings 

 

“I would say that's Daddy” Mike smiled as he signed Brad to slow, their wings keeping them stationary has the large Behemoth approached 

 

“Greetings Sky Lord,” Mike started formally, most assumed that the Behemoths were just slow lumbering creatures with little intellect but all Aerie grew up knowing that the great Sky Whales were in fact caring and intelligent animals who formed close-knit pods many a tale was told of a pod rescuing a lost Wing folk and returning them safely to home.

 

The Great Cloud Whale slowed his flight coming close to the two men, they carefully flew towards the Whale with their precious cargo, another smaller whale came close pressing up against the large male, the mother Brad guessed. The calf started to flap its wings in earnest making more of the deep rumbling calls, slipping the slings from its body they kept their hands close to it in case it could not fly, but their worry was short lived as it flew straight towards the two adult whales 

 

Watching the happy reunion Brad smirked “You know we can never tell Poke about this he will never let us live this down “ 

 

The after the joyous reunion with its parents the calf flew back to the two Winged men butting its large head gently against them , Mike chuckled at the calf's enthusiastic thank you and Brad let his aloof mask drop laughing and gently rubbing the calf's head “No more getting caught by Chimera, stay close to your Mom and Dad right “

 

The calf blew warm air through its mouth at Brad “Did she just backchat me” Brad asked laughing as he turned to look at Mike, he stopped when he saw his Mate had flown to where the Largest Whale was, Brad could hear faint a faint rumbling song coming from the Whale and Mike hovered just in front of the leviathan wings lazily flapping , a shimmer surrounded the other man Brad guessing Mike was tapping into his power.

 

Brad watched at Mike reached out and touched the Great Sky Behemoth lightly then backed away flying down to where Brad waited for him.

 

“What was that about?” Brad asked as Mike flew close to him,

 

“Not really sure myself” Mike rubbed at the back of his neck

 

Brad shrugged it did not matter “Well let's head back to Octavia, want to try and get us through the pass before nightfall, fighting two Chimera was hard enough” 

 

“But in the dark and full pack of those beasts waiting for us  “ Mike finished Brads thoughts 

 

“We can do this were trained, and we have enough weapons “ Brad spoke.

 

 

 

000

 

 

 

They were sitting atop the Pillars when the Octavia came into view, the steam clouds from her engine trailing behind, 

 

“You really think the old gal has it in her to get through this “ Mike looked at the battered Sky Galley with scepticism

 

Brad looked over at the Galley with a mix of fondness and amusement “Ray and I put most of our silver into fixing her up, she may look like a bucket of bolts tied together with rope and prayers but she can pull this off” 

 

Mike arched a brow sceptical as he looked at the Galley, the Octavia was coming in fast and Mike and Brad stepped back against the walls of the Pillar 

 

“Shit Rudy is at the wheel” Brad expression remained neutral except for a faint ticking of his jaw 

 

The Octavia came in fast both Wing men ready to fly if it looked like the inevitable would happen, they could make out Rudy’s smiling face in the wheelhouse. Just when it looked like the Octavia was going to ram the rocky Pillar Rudy spun the wheel yelling for Pappy to cut the engines, the Octavia slowed and gilded sideways to a halt.

 

“That Man is a god's damn show off” Mike griped

 

Both men flew over to the Octavia shaking their heads at Rudy’s pleased smile.

 

“Ray will have your skin if you damage this ship Rudy” Brad warned as he settled on the deck, he watched as the rest of the men came up on deck 

 

“Relax Brother, Octavia's fine,” Rudy leaned against the railing staring at the Pillars his eyes glowed softly for a moment as he tapped into his magic, scowling slightly he turned back around 

 

“There are a lot of angry Chimeras in that pass” Rudy announced looking at both Brad and Mike “What happened” 

 

Mike looked sheepish while Brad gave a long-suffering sigh “Mike is a soft-hearted fool who could not leave a defenceless creature to the claws of the chimera, 

 

Mike just shrugged spinning the staff in his hands  “Well the staff worked a treat “ 

 

Pappy’s voice broke into their conversation, he was standing close to the bowsprit “If we are going to attempt to make a run through the pass I suggest we get a move on, going to be dark soon” 

 

The sounds of snarls and growls travelled through the pass seems to grow louder and more vicious as the minutes ticked by

 

“Well I say it would be a damn stupid Chimera that picked on the Octavia and her crew“ Poke announced resolutely his arms crossed 

 

A Dark shadow flew over the Octavia causing all eyes to look upwards and for Mike to smile the others all stared in awe as a massive sky whale circled the sky above them 

 

Brad gave a short snort looking up at the large Sky Whale “Looks like we may have heavy air support when we go in” 

 

“Well I suppose big Whale help is better than no help” Pappy drawled his eyes skyward watching the large flying beast

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The Imperial City    
  
  
  
  


The inky black clouds roll above the High tower,   below the metallic chink of armour bodies sound. The entire legion gathered at Schwetje command awaiting orders. The Archchancellor stood atop the tower looking fixedly at a spot in front of him.Thick tendrils of black smoke coiled out of the ancient Mirror, the mirror that he had demanded be brought up from his private dungeons, for what purpose Grigio had wandered but it was not his place to ask. 

 

The Chancellor had been in a vile temper with the escape of the Prince and the Engineer and knew he would have to answer to their master for their failure.

 

A Raspy voice sounded from the depths of the   tendrils of black smoke leaking out from its mirrored surface to curl around Schwetje’s  feet 

 

“You lost the prince, he was to be my vessel to leave this prison” a gauntleted fist slammed on the Mirrors surface small cracks appearing on its surface 

 

Schwetje dropped to his knees his face pressed to the cold damp stone “I failed you, I beg your forgiveness there must be another way” 

 

Thick tendrils wrapped around Schwetje throat yanking his head up the figure in the mirror beckoning him dragged forward till his body was pressed against the mottled silver surface 

 

“it is of no matter, One  of my own bloodlines shall suffice “ the Necromancers voice crooned from the mirror

 

Griego watched in horror as Schwetje’s eyes went wide in terror as he realised what was about to happen, ribbons of black smoke poured into the Archansellors mouth and eyes, black lines started to appear on the man's skin. Griego crept back against the stone wall making himself as small as  

 

He watched in horror as the Chancellor's body convulsed and a scream was ripped from his throat, the mirror exploded with a howl then silence, Griego watched from his spot against the wall daring to crawl to where Schweties body lay crumpled on the ground. 

 

“  Sir are you alright” Griego rasped 

 

A deep chuckle sounded from Schwetje “Never better” his eyes a soulless black “In fact I would say I feel fantastic” 

 

Schwetje unfurled from the floor standing looking down at Griego, like one may study an insect underfoot, 

 

“You served  Yess?” the voice that came from Schwetje was his but not and Griego shuddered 

 

“I did, I still do My Lord” Bending his head until it touched waiting for what felt like an eternity until he felt a gauntlet hand grab him and haul him up till his toes only brushed the ground.

 

“Then serve us, and we shall set this world aflame, bring new order to annihilate those who would go against us” Schwetje let go of Griego the latter dropping back to the ground,

 

Schwetje strode to the edge of the tower looking down at the gathered legion “Have they all sworn allegiance to Me “ his black eyes peering down at the troops, steel encased fingers tapping on the stone battlements , “let's ensure their loyalty shall we” Schwetje closed his eyes and started talking slowly in The Old Tongue, as the words spilling out noxious   black smoke poured from his hands, it travelled down the tower coalescing around the gathered men and women thickening until it surrounded the Troops.

 

The screams started and Griego wanted to hide but Schwetje had grabbed him by the collar making him look down upon the scene below, the gathered soldiers writhing and convulsing soon all lay dead , Griego looked on in horror as each corpse was then reanimated the dark purple glow of Necromancy surrounding each Soldier “ They will now have but only one loyalty and that is to me “ Schwetje hissed 

 

“I won't have to take such dramatic steps with you now will I toad” Schwetjes grabbed Griego by the chin staring coldly at him 

 

“No SIre, loyal till the end,” Griego gasped out  

 

“Good, as a gift I give you these troops to command, go forth and bring the Skylands to heel” Schweties’ smile was cold and merciless 

 

“What about the Prince?” Griego dared ask, feeling surer of his usefulness. 

 

“I will set others to that task  no fear I will have the Prince”  With that Schwetje stalked off, Griego shivered he was now certain with every fibre of his being that he was damned to the seven fiery hells 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> comments please and Thank you


End file.
